Katharina
by WitchlingGirl
Summary: Meet Katharina. A sixteen-year-old orphan transferring to Hogwarts for her sixth year. After four years of living with an abusive stepfather, she's broken on the inside. She meets someone. He's captivated by her. Can he put her back together?
1. Ch 1: Katharina

**Disclaimer: Wish I could say I did.**

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**Chapter One  
Katharina**

_"She wants to go home,  
But nobody's ho__me,  
That's where she lies,  
Broken inside."  
_Nobody's Home- Avril Lavigne

"Katharina, get your ass out of that bed!" a male voice yelled. My daily wake up call.

"Daddy, I can make breakfast. Let Kat sleep," a female voice pleaded.

"No, Vanessa," the first voice snapped, "the girl needs to learn."

"She's only fifteen, I'm eighteen," Vanessa continued.

There was a dull thud. It sounded as if Vanessa had been slapped. Five seconds later, Vanessa stormed in.

"I tried, Kat," Vanessa said. We didn't share a room, but she generally stayed in here at night, ever since my mum married _him_. "I'll come down in a sec to look after you."

"Thanks, 'Nessa," I said, climbing out of bed.

"Any reason you have blonde hair and blue eyes today?" Vanessa asked.

"Huh? Oh, dreaming about my mum again," I said. "Wish it wouldn't do that in case _he _comes in, and sees my hair a different colour."

"Katharina! I want my food, girl!"

"All right, I'm coming. Holy shit, give me two seconds!" I shouted back. "Nessie, what did we do to deserve this?"

"I know," she said, flopping onto my bed. "Just be glad you've only been stuck with him for five years. I've known him all my life."

"What did our mothers see in him?"

"I haven't a clue, I'm still convinced he gave them Amortentia," Vanessa said. "Now, get going. And mind you don't burn the bacon again. I don't like it crispy."

"Why would I burn it again?" I asked, lifting up my shirt, revealing a large, purple bruise on my back. "You can still see what happened last time."

Vanessa whistled. "Has it got worst?"

"Not sure," I replied, letting my shirt drop.

"Katharina!"

I turned to leave.

"Hair," Vanessa whispered.

"Oh, right," I said. I scrunched my face up in concentration, and my hair returned to dark brown, and my eyes to their normal hazel.

I stormed down the stairs, into the kitchen, turned the stove on, placed a frying pan on the burner, and threw strips of bacon on it. The bacon was almost finished, when _he _stormed into the kitchen.

"You're burning that bacon, girl!"

"No, I'm not, Karl! You're a paranoid bastard!"

He pushed me to floor, took his precious bacon out of the pan, and dumped the searing hot grease on me. I screamed. He proceeded to beat me, with and without magic.

Let's stop here, and I'll explain the basics.

My mum had been single since the day she found out about me. She left England the day before I was born. So, my entire life we've been living in the magical district of Toronto, also known as Mystic Haven. It was just my mum and I until I was eleven years old. She met Karl. Vanessa was such a brat for my mum after Karl and her got engaged, but I know Vanessa was trying to get my mum to call the wedding off. It didn't happen. The summer I turned twelve, they married. And that's when my house became hell.

He'd get my mum drunk so he could beat Vanessa and I. My mum couldn't do anything to stop him. She'd just heal Vanessa and I before sending us to school. Mum had actually been beaten for defending us.

When I turned fourteen, Karl attempted to rape me, but the stupid bastard was so drunk, he forgot to Silence me, so I screamed bloody murder, and Vanessa hit him on the head with her cauldron. My mum hadn't been home, she was at a bachelorette party. I never told Mum. Neither did Vanessa. But that year, my mum passed away of dragon pox. She wasn't that old. She didn't think anything of it, so it never was treated.

The beatings got worse; Karl started treating me like someone Muggles call Cinderella. I'm his cook, launderer, housekeeper, basically I'm a slave. I'm also a Metamorphmagus. Karl doesn't know. I've kept it hidden from him ever since I've met him. When I go to school, I use my abilities to hide the bruises and scars. Anyway, back to present times.

By the time Vanessa could rescue me, it was time for school. She came running down the stairs.

"Daddy, it's time for Kat to go to school," Vanessa said. Karl kicked me one last time.

"Get out then, girl," Karl said. Vanessa helped me to my feet. "And make sure you come straight home. We have to talk."

"Where am I supposed to go? My imaginary friend's house?" I asked sarcastically, wiping blood from my face.

"Don't take that tone with me," he snapped.

"You can't tell me what to do," I snarled.

"I'm your guardian, I can tell you what to do," he growled. "Now, GET OUT!"

"Come on, let's get you cleaned up," Vanessa said. She led me out of the room, and back into my room.

"What's the damage today, Vanessa?"

"Two black eyes, a fat lip, many cuts and bruises, and a two foot long cut starting at your right shoulder, and down to your left hip," Vanessa said, healing the cuts only. "Crap. The two foot long cut was caused with Dark magic, it'll scar, Kat."

"Shit. Ah, well," I said, pulling on my school uniform. I grabbed my books, and headed out the door. I quickly rushed downstairs, and out the front door before Karl could change his mind. My mother had enrolled me in a private magic school in order for me to get a good magical education. Best in the province they said. It was filled with the wealthiest magical kids in Ontario. Midstars Academy for Young Witches and Wizards. So, I have no friends there because my mum had to work two jobs just to send me there. Also didn't help I'm the smartest witch in the entire school. She wanted the best for her daughter, and the school is said to be pretty close to my mum's old school, Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. I've wanted to go there, but Mum couldn't bear to have me so far away, for so many months. With Midstars though, you don't do actual magic until you're eleven years old. You start school when you're five, like Muggles do, and are taught how to read and write, and do math. I'm also the _only_ Metamorphmagus in the school, which isn't unusual.

Today was the last day of school, and tomorrow begins the summer holidays. My sixteenth birthday. Canada's birthday too. Mystic Haven is invisible to Muggles. They don't know it exists. So, I walked down the street to Midstars, not having to worry as I changed my hair to shoulder length purple, and my eyes to violet. Shopkeepers and vendors called out to me as I walked past, and the owner of the sweetshop gave me a chocolate bar, something she's done ever since I was allowed chocolate. I also happen to work there to pay for tuition and my school supplies, ever since my mother died. Karl took my mother's money even though I'm entitled to it next year.

"See you after school, Katharina?" the owner called.

"Have to go home first, Iris," I called back. "Karl wants to 'talk'."

"Did he beat you again, Kat?" Iris shouted. I let the 'glamour' drop. Iris gasped. "Honey, you should just leave. You and Vanessa."

"What good would that do? I'd like to see my inheritance," I yelled.

"I never understood why sweet Francesca married him," Iris said sadly. "Now get going to school, you don't want to be late on your last day."

I chuckled. I loved Iris. She was a motherly figure with black hair that was greying, and kind brown eyes. She also happened to be black. Karl hated her, and she hated Karl. I walked the rest of the way to Midstars munching on the chocolate bar. I know, not a very healthy breakfast. I finally reached Midstars. A large, stone building made of four floors. It had a Quidditch pitch in the front; the goal posts could be seen from anywhere in Mystic Haven. I could see students arriving on Nimbus Two Thousand and Ones or Firebolts. I'm saving up to buy a Firebolt. I still had a Comet Two Sixty. I happened to be a very good Chaser, but I can't afford the Quidditch robes, so I'm a sub. Sighing, I pushed open the gates, and walked down the lonely path that only I seemed to walk. I reached the front doors, and headed to Transfiguration. I took my usual seat, the very back right corner. Closest to the door, and far from anyone.

"Ooh, look, Candy Girl's got purple hair today," a snooty female said, laughing.

"Piss off, Cassandra," I snapped. "Or I'll turn you into an anemone."

"A what?"

"A pointy sea creature," I explained. I'll be surprised if she passes with an 'A'. Cassandra's the richest person in this school, and her only real talent is Divination.

"I'm like, so scared," she said mockingly.

"You should be," I said, pointing my wand at her, and concentrated. She turned into a white rabbit. I turned her back into herself.

"Now, behave yourself, or I'm going to turn you into a button. Got it?" I asked her.

"I'm telling," she whined.

"Who? Daddy or the Headmistress?"

"Both, they'll have you expelled," she said.

"For turning you into a rabbit?" I snorted. "I don't think so."

The bell signalled, and the teacher, Mr. Porter walked in.

"Settle down class, I have your OWL marks, and then you're free to do whatever you like," Mr. Porter said. He was very funny, and he too, couldn't stand Cassandra. He opened his briefcase, pulled out a single piece of parchment. "As always, when I call your name, you tell me whether or not you want the whole class to hear your exam mark, and your final mark. If not, you come up here, and I will tell you. Nobody failed this year."

I was always at the bottom of the list. I listened with vague interest as to who received what mark. Most of the class received 'E's.

"Katharina Wilkinson."

"Go for it."

"'O', final mark, ninety-nine percent."

I felt my cheeks turn red, as the whole class glared at me. So, I'm very good at my classes, so what?

"Cassandra Yale."

"I'm sure I did very well, Mr. Porter. Go ahead."

"'D', final mark, fifty percent," Mr. Porter said.

"That's good, right?"

"You passed, Cassandra, but you won't be taking Transfiguration next year," Mr. Porter said. "Okay, you're free to do whatever you want."

I read for the rest of the period. When the bell rang, I was first out the door. I headed to Arithmancy. We received our OWL marks there, too. Outstanding, yet again. Same in Defence Against the Dark Arts, Charms, Care of Magical Creatures, History of Magic, Astronomy, Herbology, Potions, and Muggle Studies. That was my day. My last day at Midstars, next year began NEWT year. Yay. Note the sarcasm. When the final bell rang, everyone made a mad dash out the door, everyone except for me. I wanted to take as long as possible before I had to 'talk' with Karl. I had just finished emptying my locker, when a voice to my left made me jump out of my skin.

"You're still here, Kat?" It was Mr. Porter.

"Beats home," I said, shrugging.

"You're a bright witch, Kat, don't let people like Karl Schmidt or Cassandra Yale ruin it for you," he said. "I'm not sure if Francesca did you a favour by enrolling you here, even if it's got the best magical education in the province. Get your morning chocolate from Iris?"

"As always," I replied. Mr. Porter had been my neighbour until I was twelve years old, so he's seen me grow up. He taught me how to play Quidditch. He also gave me my pet Kneazle, Anya, for my twelfth birthday.

"Did he beat you again?"

"Why should today be any different?" I asked.

"Did you burn the bacon again?" he asked.

"In his mind, yes, in any sane person's, no," I said. "He dumped the bacon grease on me today, and I have a two foot long cut diagonally on my back. And apparently, black eyes. He says we have to 'talk' when I get home."

"I'll be here 'til seven if you need me," Mr. Porter said. "You should get going, I don't want to be the reason you get beaten."

"Thanks, Phil," I said. He glared at me. "I mean, Mr. Porter." I left through the main entrance, and ran home. I got in at my usual time. _He _was waiting for me.

"Sit."

I dropped my bag, and sat down at the kitchen table.

"I've been thinking about your education next year," Karl said. "And I've come to a decision."

I waited.

"I've decided you're going to Hogwarts, in Great Britain."

I couldn't believe it, he was sending to my dream school. No more violence! No more being a slave! I could have a life. Not play my guitar in secret! Maybe actually play Quidditch!

"What?"

"You heard me, missy," he snarled. "You're going to Hogwarts, and there's nothing you can do about it. I'm tired of looking after you."

"But I like Midstars," I protested. If I acted like I wanted to stay he'd definitely let me go.

"I don't care, you can go to a boarding school. You're going to London tonight. You'll be staying at the local wizarding pub. You have until eight to pack. I'll see you next year," he said, exiting the kitchen. If he thought I was coming back here, he was crazy. I dashed up the stairs, grabbed my broom, and flew to Finches' Candy Shop.

"Iris! Iris!" I shouted. She came running out of the back.

"What? What is it, child?"

"Karl's sending me to Hogwarts in Britain! It's a boarding school!" I yelled excitedly.

"The same Hogwarts Francesca went to?" she asked. I nodded. "That's wonderful, sweetheart." She hugged me. "When are you leaving?"

"Tonight," I answered.

"Tonight? Is that man out of his mind? On second thought, don't answer that," she said. "But where will you stay?"

"At the local wizarding inn," I said. "Can I go tell Phil? He said he'll be at the school 'til seven."

"Course, then you come straight here. I have something for you," Iris said.

I left the shop, mounted my broom, and flew back to Midstars. I entered the school, and headed to my Transfiguration classroom. I knocked on the door.

"Mr. Porter? I just thought you'd like to know, I won't be coming back here next year," I said sadly.

"Why not?"

"I'm going to Hogwarts instead!"

"That's wonderful, Kat! When are you leaving?"

"Karl's making me leave tonight. I have to stay at an inn until the school year begins," I said.

"Well, that's good," he said. "You'll write of course?"

"Most definitely."

"Good girl," he said. "You should go and pack."

"Thanks for everything, Phil," I said, turning to leave.

"Francesca would've killed me if I hadn't looked after you," he said.

"Yeah I reckoned she would've," I said. "Bye, Phil."

"Bye, Katharina Francesca Wilkinson."

I flew back to Finches'.

"Iris?"

She came from the back again. "Here." She handed me a sack full of money. "That's this month's paycheque and next month's. And some money I owed Francesca I was saving for you."

"Iris, I can't," I said, my eyes filling with tears. She hugged me.

"Honey, this is the best thing for you. Now, you go home, get Nessie to help you pack, and I don't wanna see you until you're nineteen years old, got it?"

"Yes," I said, my voice thick.

"And I want a letter at the end of every month, with a picture," she said. I nodded. She released me, and I left the shop. I flew back home, and rushed up to my room. Vanessa was already there.

"Vanessa, your father is sending me to Hogwarts," I said. She squealed. She pulled my trunk from underneath my bed, and placed an Undetectable Extension Charm on it. By the time eight o'clock rolled around all of my possessions, and most of my mum's, were in my trunk. Anya was in her basket.

"What about you?" I asked Vanessa.

"I'm leaving tonight, too," she said, hugging me goodbye. "I'm staying with a friend in her apartment in the Muggle world. Karl's never set foot there. He'll never find me."

Vanessa levitated my trunk down the stairs, and in front of the fireplace in the living room. The fire was roaring. I grabbed a handful of Floo powder and threw it in. I stepped into the green flames. Vanessa passed me my trunk, and Anya.

"I'll see you next year," Karl said.

I said something I always wanted to say, "Go to hell, you fucking bastard. The Leaky Cauldron, London, England."

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**Author's Note: Like it? Hate it? Love it? This is just something that popped into my head last weekend, and I wrote the entire chapter in a day. **


	2. Ch 2: The Leaky Cauldron

**Disclaimer: **_**When I get older, losing my hair, many years from now…**_** maybe, but most likely not.**

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**Chapter Two  
The Leaky Cauldron**

_"Never said a word of discontentment  
Thought it a thousand times but now  
I'm leaving home"  
_Exodus- Evanescence

I kept my eyes shut as fireplaces whizzed by me. Finally, I felt my trunk, and Anya fly out past me. Shakily, I climbed out of the fireplace. No one was in the pub but me and the innkeeper.

"You the Wilkinson girl?" he asked.

"Yeah," I said, reverting to my British accent that I had picked up from my mum. "Better known as Kat or Katharina.

"I'm Tom," he introduced. "At a more decent hour, I'll show you how to get to Diagon Alley."

"At a more dec…" I trailed off, then it hit me. "Oh, god, it's one in the morning here, isn't it? It's only eight o'clock in Toronto. Talk about jet lag."

"Room thirteen is available, Miss Wilkinson," Tom said. "Just go upstairs, and you'll find it."

"How am I supposed to carry my trunk up there?" I asked.

"With magic, of course," he said.

"I'm under seventeen," I explained.

"Ah." He came out from behind the bar, and levitated my trunk, and began to walk upstairs. I picked up Anya, and followed. He opened the door, and placed the trunk at the foot of the bed.

"If there is anything else you need, please don't hesitate to ask," he said bowing, and exited.

I surveyed my home for two months. The room was bigger than my tiny room, especially the bed. It looked to be about queen-sized. I opened my trunk, and dug out my pyjamas. I put them on, and released Anya from her basket. I climbed into the bed, and Anya sprung up to join me. I held her close, nuzzled my face into her speckled fur, closed my eyes, and fell asleep.

_It was a gorgeous sunset. I was sitting on a rock, by the lake. I was wearing my swimsuit, with a towel on my lap. My hair was flaming red, and wet. I heard my someone come up behind me._

_"Been swimming?" he asked._

_"Yeah, nothing wrong with that is there?" I asked, moving my hair sit on my left shoulder. _

_"No–" he stopped and gasped. "What happened to your–?" He stopped again, as if ashamed to be caught looking at my back._

_"Back? I received that the day I found out I was coming here. My stepfather used Dark magic, so the cut scarred." I paused. "You can touch it if you like."_

_The swimsuit was styled in such a way that you could see almost the entire scar. He came closer, and gently moved the strap so he could see the beginning of the scar. His touch felt uncertain, and it felt as though a jolt of electricity passed through us. His touch became more certain as he traced the scar with his fingers. When he got halfway, he ran his thumb up and down, feeling the smooth skin, and the scarred, as I had done countless times. I felt myself smiling as chills ran up and down my spine. There was no doubt about it, I had fallen for him. He continued to trace my scar. When he had finished, neither of us said anything. He was literally, right next to me. I looked up at him, my head resting against his chest. My hair was the same shade as his, and his eyes a deep blue. He was looking down at me, his expression angry, but it softened once he realised I was looking. We stared at each other for a few moments. He leaned towards me, and I felt his lips on mine. I closed my eyes, and kissed back. He deepened the kiss, and–_

I jolted awake. I knew I had been dreaming, I just couldn't remember what about. Which was strange. I always remembered my dreams. Even the déjà vu ones. I looked at my watch. It was only eleven o'clock at night. Oh, wait. I was in London. Therefore, it was four in the morning. Frustrated, I flopped back down on my pillow. My hair landed on my face. Even in the dark, I could tell my hair was red. Highly confused, I fell into a fitful sleep.

The next morning, I woke at eleven. I got dressed, and headed downstairs. When I reached downstairs, Tom greeted.

"Sleep well, Miss Wilkinson?" he asked.

"Well enough, thanks," I replied. "And it's Kat or Katharina."

"That's good. Would you like breakfast or brunch, as it were?" he asked.

"Yes, please," I replied. The pub had many patrons now. I heard snippets of different European languages. I was, however, the only teenager. Actually, I was the only minor. I sat down at the bar.

"Tom, when does Hogwarts let out for summer break?" I asked him when he returned with my food.

"Yesterday, I believe," he answered. "Let me know when you've finished, and I'll show you where Diagon Alley is."

Since my mouth was full of food, I nodded. I continued to eat my food, listening to the buzz of conversation. When I had cleaned my plate, I signalled Tom. He cleared my plate, and beckoned me to follow him. I followed as he led me to the back, and out the back door. We were now in a little garden. He took his wand out, and tapped a specific brick three times. Confused, I watched in amazement as the solid brick wall changed into an archway, and revealed a street lined with shops. Gaping in astonishment, Tom gave me a toothy grin.

"Right, this is Diagon Alley. Do not go down Knockturn Alley, it deals strictly with Dark magic." He turned, and returned to the pub, leaving me free to wander on my own. I went through the archway, and looked around in amazement.

There was a cauldron shop, an owl emporium, an Apothecary, a menagerie; there was everything. I set off down the street, and began to window shop. This place had things Mystic Haven didn't have. I went excitedly from one shop to the next. I only lingered at the Apothecary for a moment, the smell was awful. I stayed at Quality Quidditch Supplies for a half an hour. I went into the bookstore, Flourish and Blotts. They had interesting books. I left after a few minutes. I looked up and down the street, and two words caught my eye: ice cream. Glad I had brought some money, I entered the shop. Florean Fortescue's Ice Cream Parlour. Mr. Fortescue was very nice. I ordered myself a large, fudge sundae. I left the parlour, and ate my sundae outside. I watched the shoppers pass by, reminding of a Muggle marketplace I had seen as a kid. Nothing like this existed in Mystic Haven. I wondered why my mother would such a magical place. I didn't just mean Diagon Alley, I meant the whole of Britain. The country was old, you could feel the magic, something you couldn't feel in Canada. I noticed the wand shop, Ollivanders. My mum had talked of Mr. Ollivander. She had said there was no other wand maker better than him, and it was a shame I wouldn't be getting an Ollivander wand. Mum had never told me what her wand was made of. Mine is eleven and three quarter inches, made of hazel and dragon heartstring. As I finished my sundae, I decided to bring my mother's wand to Ollivander tomorrow, and see if he could tell me about it. I left my table, and headed back to the Leaky Cauldron. I headed up to my room when I was in the pub. Upon entering my room, I found three owls waiting for me on my bed. I walked over to them, and untied the parcels and letters from their legs. I recognised each owl. The barn owl was Iris's, the Great Horned Owl was Phil's, and the Snowy Owl was Vanessa's. Each took off once the parcels and letters were removed. I open Vanessa's letter first.

_Happy Sweet Sixteen, Kat!_

_I know witches and wizards don't make a big deal of your sixteenth birthday, but just think, one year closer to seventeen!_

_I did get away from home yesterday. I live with Kylie in a good part of Toronto now. I'm so glad you and I finally got away. Kylie's mom has been good to me, fussing and whatnot. I even get my own room! I took what's left of your mother's possessions with me. _

_Anyway, I got you a birthday present, though you told me not to. Well, I obviously didn't listen, did I? I thought it might be good for school, or leisure. Now that you're going to Hogwarts, I'm really glad I got them for you._

_Happy birthday!_

_Love,  
__Vanessa_

Wondering what Vanessa possibly could've got me, I opened her parcel. Inside was a brand-new telescope, _and_ a lunascope. There was also a note at the bottom of the box. There was also a necklace.

_Kat–_

_I decided to get you a telescope. Merlin knows how you passed your OWL with your old one. The necklace is a Celtic cross for courage. Funny, I got it before I knew you were going to Hogwarts._

–_Vanessa_

Still amazed that Vanessa had that much money, I picked up Iris's birthday card.

_Happy birthday, honey!_

_We didn't forget you already. Don't worry. The regulars already miss you, and the children already miss your Metamorphosing._

_I know you don't like us getting you birthday presents, but like any other year, you're getting one. Don't worry, it's nothing expensive._

_Hoping you're fine in the United Kingdom,_

_Love,  
__Iris_

I opened her parcel; it contained all my favourite sweets from Finches, and twenty Galleons. I knew she was trying to keep me from having a job, until I was finished school. I picked up Phil's letter.

_Happy birthday, Katharina!_

_I informed the Headmistress of your transfer to Hogwarts. She says she's happy for you. But you and I both know she's only glad you're gone. She wanted to kick you out in third grade, but the teachers said you were a very good student, and a Metamorphmagus. Only then did she agree to let you stay on… bitch._

I laughed at that. Phil hated Mrs. Stratton ever since she came to Midstars in '86. I continued reading.

_Let me know when Hogwarts contacts you, so we can owl them your marks. All the teachers were sad to see their top student leave without warning, but glad you've left. Cassandra Yale will be particularly pleased to see you've left Midstars. _

_Don't worry, I haven't given you a present, that's for next year. _

_Ignore the students if they taunt you. You are brilliant._

_From,  
__Phil_

Glad at least someone heeded my wish, I pulled out parchment, quill, and ink and began writing three separate letters.

_Dear Vanessa,_

_You really shouldn't've got me that telescope or lunascope. Where'd you get the money anyway? All of your money is supposed to be going to your jackass father. _

_I'm very glad you've gotten away from your jackass father. I'm also glad you took the rest of my mother's possessions._

_I'm doing fine, though it's only been a day. Diagon Alley is very cool. Maybe it's a good thing I've got barely any money. I stood at the Quidditch shop for a half hour before leaving._

_I dunno what I'm supposed to do with my free time. Maybe I'll go check out Muggle London, but probably not. My sense of direction is horrible on the ground._

_Tell Kylie I said hi._

_Love your little 'sis',  
__Kat_

Satisfied, I started my letter to Iris.

_Dear Iris,_

_Thanks for the sweets, and the money, though you really shouldn't have. And how can anyone miss me? It's only been a day, and the shop's not even open, it's Canada Day!_

_I'm in London, actually. I'm doing okay, I s'pose. I didn't even imagine my birthday quite like this, and I already miss the fireworks. But I'll have to get used to it._

_Thanks again._

_Love,  
__Kat_

_Dear Phil,_

_What did you expect? She hated my guts the day she found out I had no money. And Cassandra Yale can go to hell for all I care. She's a stuck-up bitch. Always has been, always will be. At least you don't have to teach her Transfiguration anymore._

_Thanks for not getting me a present. I'll write as soon as I have something more interesting to tell._

_From,  
__Katharina_

Finished, I put my writing utensils away, and rolled up each letter. I'd have to send them tomorrow, when I could find a post office. I glanced at my watch. It was five o'clock. Realising I was hungry, I headed downstairs for food. I sat down at the bar, and ordered fish and chips.

"Tom, does Diagon Alley have a post office?" I asked, munching on a fry.

"No, it doesn't," he replied. "Don't you have an owl?"

"No, just a Kneazle," I said.

"Do you need to send a letter?"

"Yeah, three," I said.

"You could borrow my owl," he said.

"Thanks," I said gratefully.

"It's no trouble," he replied, turning to another customer.

Once I had finished, I headed up to my room, and pulled out a Muggle novel I had been reading. _The Princess Bride_. I curled up on the bed, and began to read. Four hours later, I had finished the book. It was night now. I put my pyjamas on, and crawled back in bed. I extinguished the lamp.

"Anya?" I whispered into the darkness. "Anya?"

I felt a thump as Anya jumped onto the bed. I pulled her close, and thought about my life in the past four years.

Every night, I cried myself to sleep. After that terrifying night, I went to bed in fear. Nightmares plagued my dreams, they even haunted my daydreams. And my mother couldn't do a thing about it. She'd heal Vanessa and I, and send us out the door. What my mother couldn't heal, I hid with my Metamorphosing. I started to hate my mum for marrying this man. But then she got sick. And the beatings got worse, because my mother couldn't defend us. Vanessa tried to protect me, but it never worked. Iris tried to take us for a night, but Karl wouldn't allow it. Mum died that night. That was the worst month for me. I became Cinderella, except I was physically beaten. I became so depressed, that even my Metamorphosing wouldn't work. After that, Karl had informed me I had to get a job, because he wasn't paying for any of my shit. Dealing with this has changed me. Once outgoing, I now recoil at a stranger's touch. I dunno how they think Hogwarts is going to be better for me. I don't trust people as easily as I used to. I especially don't trust men. What am I supposed to do? I'm scarred… broken, even. How can I go to Hogwarts in pieces? I've tried putting myself back together. It hasn't worked. Vanessa says I need someone else to do it, someone who makes me happy. She didn't mean her, Iris, or Phil. She meant someone I could be myself around. So far, she said, I'm myself only around Anya. It'll probably take to the end of the school year before I trust these kids. I think she's asking a lot. I fell asleep thinking of one thing: life isn't a fairy tale.


	3. Ch 3: Hogwarts Letter

**Disclaimer: Maybe in a parallel universe.**

* * *

**Chapter Three  
****Hogwarts Letter**

"_I'll take a risk, take a chance, make a change, and breakaway_."  
Breakaway- Kelly Clarkson

It took me three weeks, but I finally found courage to set foot in Ollivanders. I went in, and a little bell clanged above me. The shop was quiet, and lined with wands. It appeared deserted. I waited a few moments for Ollivander to come out. He didn't.

"Hello?" I called tentatively. I heard wheels slide towards me.

"You look a little old to be buying your first wand," he said.

"I'm not actually," I said, pulling out my mother's wand. "I was wondering if you could tell me what this wand is made of. I understand it's one of yours."

"May I see it?" he asked.

Hesitantly, I handed him the wand. He looked over it expertly. I patiently waited. After a few moments, he spoke.

"I remember every wand I ever sold," Ollivander said. "I happen to know that this wand contains a single hair from the tail of a unicorn, and is made from beechwood. I also happen to know it once belonged to Francesca Wilkinson, and hasn't been in use for two years. Why not?"

"She passed away two years ago," I replied.

"Who are you?" he asked.

"Katharina Wilkinson," I answered.

"You cannot be her sister, her family was killed sixteen years ago," Ollivander said.

"I'm her daughter," I told him. "I'm transferring to Hogwarts this year."

"May I see your wand?" he asked.

"Um… sure," I said, taking it from its pocket, and handed it to him. Again, he looked it over.

"This is a Lamarre creation, is it not?" he asked, I nodded. "Dragon heartstring, and hazel. Correct?"

"Correct," I answered.

"Where are you from if you are transferring to Hogwarts?" he asked.

"I grew up in Canada," I said. "Thank you, but I have other errands to run."

"Of course," he said, opening the door, and bowed me out of the shop. "Perhaps I'll see you in twenty years time with your own children."

Before I could say anything, the door was already shut. Huffing, I headed down the street, back to the Leaky Cauldron.

* * *

Two weeks had passed since I had gone to Ollivanders. It was a strange thing to not be beaten up every night, but I'm slowly getting use to it. Slowly being the keyword there, I nearly have a heart attack still when Tom calls my name, or Mr. Fortescue says hi to me in Diagon Alley. I still don't trust easily. I am wary of the people in the street. The shopkeepers I trust, but I think it has to do with the type of people they are. Vanessa and Iris write me a letter every week, keeping me up-to-date with what's going on. After doing my usual morning routine, I headed back upstairs, only to find an owl at the window, waiting to be let in. Curious as to who would be sending me a letter, I opened the window. The owl fluttered in, and landed in front of me. I took the letter from its leg. The owl hooted, and prepared to take off.

"Hang on, I need you take my letter back," I said. The owl looked at me. "Don't give me that look, I haven't got an owl, all right?"

I looked at the envelope in my hand. The address was written in green. It was addressed as:

_Miss K. Wilkinson  
Room Thirteen  
The Leaky Cauldron  
London_

The envelope was thick. I turned it over; there was a purple wax seal, bearing a coat of arms. A lion, a snake, an eagle, and a badger surrounding an 'H'. I immediately knew what I was holding in my hand. My Hogwarts letter, received five years late. Excitedly, I opened the envelope, and pulled out the first piece of parchment. It read:

_HOGWARTS SCHOOL OF WITCHCRAFT AND WIZARDRY  
_

_Headmaster: Albus Dumbledore  
(Order of Merlin, First Class, Grand Sorc., Chf. Warlock, Supreme Mugwump, International Confed. of Wizards)_

_Dear Miss Wilkinson,_

_We are pleased to inform you that you have a place at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Please find enclosed a list of all necessary books and equipment. If you are not taking the subject this year, do not by the books necessary for that class, even from previous years. Upon arrival at the school, you will need to see the Headmaster. The Hogwarts Express leaves King's Cross at eleven o'clock.  
__  
__Term begins on 1 September. We await your owl no later than 21 August._

_Yours sincerely,  
_Minerva McGonagall  
Deputy Headmistress

I pulled out the second piece of parchment.

_HOGWARTS SCHOOL OF WITCHCRAFT AND WIZARDRY_

Uniform  
_First years will require:  
__Three sets of plain work robes (black)  
__One plain pointed hat (black) for day wear  
__One pair of protective gloves (dragon hide or similar)  
__One winter cloak (black, silver fastenings)  
__Please note that all pupils' clothes should carry nametags_

Set books  
_All students should have a copy of the following:  
_The Standard Book of Spells (Grades 1-5) _by Miranda Goshawk  
_A History of Magic _by Bathilda Bagshot  
_Magical Theory _by Adalbert Waffling  
_A Beginners' Guide to Transfiguration _by Emeric Switch  
_One Thousand Magical Herbs and Fungi _by Phyllida Spore  
_Magical Drafts and Potions _by Arsenius Jigger  
_Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them _by Newt Scamander  
_Intermediate Transfiguration _by Herbert Darwin  
_Magical Hieroglyphics and Logograms _by Ankerita Webber  
_Numerology and Grammatica _by Freya Deboer  
_Home Life and Social Habits of British Muggles _by Wilhelm Wigworthy_

Other Equipment  
_1 cauldron (pewter, standard size 2)  
__1 set glass or crystal phials  
__1 set brass scales  
Students may also bring an owl OR a cat OR a toad_

Gaping at the extensive booklist, I pulled out a third piece of parchment.

Sixth year students will require:  
Standard Book of Spells (Grade 6) _by Miranda Goshawk  
_Advanced Potion-Making _by Libatius Borage  
_The Dark Forces: A Guide to Self-Protection _by Quentin Trimble  
_Guide to Advanced Transfiguration _by Erma Craig  
_Advanced Rune Translation _by Lambert Malet  
_Flesh-Eating Trees of the World _by Aloysius Eadriccsun_

_Students will also require dress robes this year. _

There was once last piece of parchment in the envelope. I pulled it out. It was a permission form to visit the village of Hogsmeade. Deciding I would forge the signature myself, I picked up the second piece of parchment. I had all of those books except for _Home Life and Social Habits of British Muggles_, and I'd obviously need the Hogwarts uniform. I wasn't thrilled that I'd be needing dress robes. Every year, Midstars had a Christmas ball. It was mandatory that all students in eighth grade and above go, and wore dress robes. We _had _to have dates, but as I was the most hated person in my grade, I generally ended up with a good-looking, but totally brainless guy from the grade above. I knew I was pretty, I mean my mum said it, Vanessa did, as did Iris, but I thought they were saying it just to keep my spirits up. It wasn't until after my mother died, did I accept what she had said. When my Metamorphosing wouldn't work because I was depressed, Cassandra Yale accused me of making myself look pretty in Transfiguration. Phil explained to the class that when a Metamorphmagus is having trouble with his or her Metamorphosing, they revert to what they would look like naturally, which meant I was naturally pretty, and not using magic to make myself so. After that, guys whistled at me as I passed, and called me the derogatory names they usually called Cassandra and her ilk, and I knew the girls were jealous of me, because not only did I have the brains, I also had the looks without even trying. I'll just have to hope the students of Hogwarts aren't as shallow as the students of Midstars. I wasn't asking for too much, was I?

Just then, the owl hooted indignantly. I jumped, I'd totally forgotten he was there.

"Sorry, just a sec," I told him. I grabbed my quill, parchment, and my inkpot. I wrote my response, and handed it to the owl. He flew off again. I looked at the lists again. I needed seven new books, a whole new uniform, and dress robes. I didn't have enough money, even if I bought it all second-hand. Though I did not want to, I'd have to ask Vanessa for money. Sighing, I wrote my second letter for the day. I went back downstairs to send it off. Gloomily, I returned to my room, and waited for a reply.

My excitement turned fear. I'd been meeting a lot of new people. They might think I'm rich, for barely speaking to them, just because I don't trust easily. But maybe that'll only last a week. Maybe a week after sharing a dorm together, I'll be able to talk to them, well an actual proper conversation. What if it was just Midstars all over again? What if–? I smacked myself on the head. I can't think like that. I am judging students before I've even met them. I pulled out the _Daily Prophet_, and began to do the crossword.

* * *

On August twenty-second, I received an owl, not from Vanessa, but Iris. I untied the letter, and her owl flew off. Curiously, I opened the letter.

_Dear Kat,_

_It was quite a shock when Vanessa turned up at Finches, with a letter from you, saying you didn't have enough money to buy what you needed for Hogwarts. Now, why would you ask your sister for money, Katharina? If you ever need money, you can always ask me. But then I remembered something. Francesca gave me a key the week before she died. Asked me to hold onto it for you, until you were of age, or Karl sent you to Hogwarts. When Francesca's family died, she inherited a very small fortune, but enough she said to get you through Hogwarts. _

_The key is for the Wilkinson vault at Gringotts. It contains what is now your money. Hogwarts is drawing closer. Don't worry, you'll be fine, despite what you think. _

_Love,  
__Iris_

I actually had money now. Wow, I actually have _my _own money. I put my shoes on, and headed downstairs. The pub was practically empty.

"Tom, where is everyone?" I asked.

"Tonight is the final for the Quidditch World Cup," he answered. "I'm going to be listening to it on the wireless tonight, would you like to join me?"

"Yeah," I replied, heading out back. I headed towards the crooked, white building Tom had told me was Gringotts. I ran up the marble steps. The doors were made of bronze, and a goblin, wearing scarlet and gold, stood by the door. He bowed as I walked inside. Facing a second set of doors made of silver, I noticed words engraved on them:

_Enter stranger, but take heed_  
_Of what awaits the sin of greed,_  
_For those who take, but do not earn,_  
_Must pay dearly in their turn_  
_So if you seek beneath our floors_  
_A treasure that was never yours,_  
_Thief, you have been warned, beware  
__Of finding more than treasure there._

Deciding you'd have to be out of your mind to rob this place, a pair of goblins bowed me into the bank. I now stood in a huge, marble hall. Goblins sat on high stools behind a very long counter. There were numerous doors, with numerous goblins showing people in and out of them. Goblins were weighing coins, or examining precious stones. I walked over to a free goblin.

"I would like to make a withdrawal from Miss Francesca Wilkinson's vault, please," I said politely.

"Do you have the key?" the goblin asked. I handed it to him. The goblin looked at it closely. "That seems to be in order. I will have someone take you to your vault. Griphook!"

I followed Griphook to one of the doors, and he held it open for me. We were now in a narrow, stone passageway, lit with torches. It sloped steeply, and there were little railway tracks on the floor. Griphook whistled, and a small cart came hurtling towards us. We climbed in, and were off.

It was impossible to keep track of where we had come from. The cart twisted its way through passages, turning this way and that. I think this is about the closest wizards will ever come to what Muggles call a roller coaster. We passed an underground lake where huge stalagmites and stalactites grew from the ground and ceiling. Eventually, the cart came to a stop beside a door in the passage wall. I climbed out, and Griphook unlocked the door. There were small piles of Galleons, heaps of Sickles, and a very large pile of Knuts. My mother's family must've started with a very large amount money, because to me this was far from small. I grabbed enough money to last me the entire school year, and for some shopping in Hogsmeade, and climbed back into the cart.

After one extremely wild ride later, I was standing in the sunlight once again. I decided to do what would take the longest first, buying robes. I headed over to Madam Malkin's Robes for All Occasions, and stepped into the shop. I was greeted by Madam Malkin.

"Can I help you with anything, dear?" she asked.

"Um… I need a Hogwarts uniform," I told her. "I'm transferring there."

I followed her to the back. She threw a black robe over my head, and began pinning it the right length. Once they had been pinned to the right length, I found a cloak my size, and began the tedious task of choosing a colour for my dress robes.

"Teal would look good with your hair, dear," Madam Malkin said. My hair was a dirty blonde today. I shook my head. The door opened, and Madam Malkin rushed to help the customer. I rummaged through the racks, and picked up nice-looking black robes. I stood in front of the mirror to decide if it would look good on me.

"Surely you don't want to wear black, dear," a voice said behind me. I looked in the mirror. A short, plump woman with a kind face and red hair stood behind me. She held up a pink robe. "How about this?" I shook my head. "Don't like pink? Neither does my daughter. What about blue, it would look good with hair."

"It could," I said, "but there's a slight problem." I changed my hair from dirty blonde to my natural dark brown. "I'm a Metamorphmagus."

"Hmm…" said the woman, "that does create a problem. What colour is your hair normally?"

"It changes every day, but on holidays other than Hallowe'en, September twenty-seventh, and New Year's, it's usually a dull black. And this is my natural hair colour," I said.

"Why?"

"My mother passed away two years ago," I answered. "It would help if I knew _when_ I had to where the dress robes, then I 'd know what colour I'd probably have my hair."

"Well, I'm not suppose to say, but you'll be wearing them for a ball on Christmas day," the woman said. "I'm Mrs. Weasley, by the way."

"Kat," I replied.

"So, your hair will probably be black?" Mrs. Weasley asked.

"Most likely," I replied, "but it won't be a dull black. It'll be more like this."

I changed my hair to a nice, shiny thick black, giving my eyes the appearance of wearing eyeliner. Mrs. Weasley looked at me for a couple of seconds. She went to the racks, and returned a moment later with scarlet robes, with a low (but not too low) neckline. She passed them to me. With one hand, I placed them in front of me, and the other held my hair up. They were perfect.

"They look very good on you, dear," Mrs. Weasley said. I didn't say anything. Back in Canada, Mum would never let me wear red robes, _ever_. Now I knew why; I looked gorgeous in red.

"Here you are, Molly," Madam Malkin said to Mrs. Weasley, handing her a pile of packages.

"That's not all for you, is it?" I asked with a laugh, hoping I didn't sound nosy.

"Oh no," she laughed. "No, this is for friends of my son. And my own children. They're all at the Quidditch World Cup, so I have to buy all their things. There might not be time after the World Cup."

"Hope it's not too long," I said, handing the dress robes to Madam Malkin. "I'm going to listen to the match on the wireless with the innkeeper at the Leaky Cauldron."

"You're staying at the Leaky Cauldron?" Mrs. Weasley asked.

"Right up until the first of September," I said. "It's not too bad, it's been fun."

"Here you are," Madam Malkin said, handing me my robes, and cloak. I paid for my purchases, and bade Mrs. Weasley farewell. I headed to Flourish and Blotts. After buying my books, I restocked my potions kit, bought more parchment and quills, and was about to buy more black ink, when I noticed ink labelled as Colour-Change Ink. Putting the black back, I grabbed some Colour-Change ink, and black ink, just in case. Next I bought dragon hide gloves, my old gloves were leather, and falling apart after dealing with vicious plants, and less-than-friendly magical creatures. I bought a brand-new set of scales, my old ones were my mother's, and a set of crystal phials. Laden down with heavy packages, I headed back to the Leaky Cauldron. I climbed the stairs cautiously, and once I had entered my room, I dumped the packages onto my bed. It was close to dinnertime now. I headed back downstairs to order my dinner. After I ate, I helped Tom clean up, and at ten o'clock, we settled down at the bar with sweets and turned on the wireless.

"Ladies and gentlemen… welcome! Welcome to the final of the one hundred and thirty-first Quidditch World Cup!"

You could hear screaming and clapping in the background, Tom and I cheered too.

"And now, without further ado, allow me to introduce… the Bulgarian Team Mascots!"

There were more screaming, but it wasn't as loud. There was music for a few moments followed by angry yells.

"And now," roared the commentator, "kindly put your wands in the air… for the Irish National Team Mascots!"

The crowd 'oooohed' and 'aaaahed' at something we couldn't hear.

"And now, ladies and gentlemen, kindly welcome– the Bulgarian National Quidditch Team! I give you– Dimitrov! Ivanova! Zograf! Levski! Vulchanov! Volkov! Aaaaaaand– _Krum_!

"And now, please greet– the Irish National Quidditch Team!" the commentator yelled. "Presenting– Connolly! Ryan! Troy! Mullet! Moran! Quigley! Aaaaaand– _Lynch_! And here, all the way from Egypt, our referee, acclaimed Chairwizard of the International Association of Quidditch, Hassan Mostafa!

"Theeeeeeeey're OFF!" the commentator screamed. "And it's Mullet! Troy! Moran! Dimitrov! Back to Mullet! Levski! Moran!"

It sounded as though the Chasers were throwing the Quaffle so fast to each other, that the commentator only had time to say their names.

"Troy! Moran! Levski! Mullet! Troy! TROY SCORES!" The commentator roared, and the stadium shook with applause and cheers. "Ten-zero to Ireland!"

"Yes!" I shouted, jumping up and down.

The Irish team was absolutely brilliant. Within ten minutes, they managed to score twice more. The match sounded like it had become fiercer. Finally, Bulgaria managed to score. The music started again, and within a few minutes, Bulgaria was in possession.

"Dimitrov! Levski! Dimitrov! Ivanova– oh, I say!" the commentator roared. It was completely silent for a few moments. Tom and I held our breaths as we waited for someone to say something. We heard groaning.

"It's time out!" yelled the commentator. "As trained mediwizards hurry onto the pitch to examine Aidan Lynch!"

"Krum must've tricked him," I said. "Must've dived, and Lynch followed."

There was silence once again as Lynch was looked after.

There was a loud cheer, and the match continued. After fifteen more minutes, Ireland had scored ten more times, bringing the score to one hundred and thirty to ten. The game was beginning to get dirtier.

"And Mostafa takes the Bulgarian Keeper to task for cobbing– excessive use of elbows!" the commentator informed the roaring spectators. "And– yes, it's a penalty to Ireland!

"Now, we can't have that!" the commentator said, sounding amused. "Somebody slap the referee!

"And unless I'm much mistaken, Mostafa is actually attempting to send off the Bulgarian Team Mascots. Now _there_'s something we haven't seen before… oh, this could turn nasty…" the commentator said. We heard two short blasts of a whistle. "_Two _penalties for Ireland!" the commentator shouted, and the Bulgarian crowd hollered in anger. "And Volkov and Vulchanov had better get back on those brooms… yes… there they go… and Troy takes the Quaffle…"

The match sounded as if it had gotten dirtier.

"_Foul_!" we heard the Irish supporters roar as one.

"Foul!" the commentator echoed. "Dimitrov skins Moran –deliberately flying to collide there– and it's got to be another penalty– yes, there's the whistle!

"Levski– Dimitrov– Moran– Troy– Mullet– Ivanova– Moran again– Moran– MORAN SCORES!"

We continued listening. You could hear something in the background, the score was now one hundred and seventy to ten. I listened to the commentary, trying to visualise what was going on, though it would never compare–

"IRELAND WIN!" the commentator shouted suddenly. "KRUM GETS THE SNITCH –BUT IRELAND WIN– good Lord, I don't think any of us were expecting that!"

You hear the screams of delight coming from the Irish.

"Yes! Yes! Go Ireland!" I shouted happily, dancing up and down. It was now midnight. Tom turned off the wireless.

"I think it is time for bed, Katharina," Tom said. I nodded and helped him cleaned up. Sleepily, I headed up to my room. I put on my pyjamas, and climbed into bed. Anya joined me.

"Ireland won, Anya," I muttered sleepily. I fell asleep with visions of me playing at the Quidditch World Cup.

When I went downstairs next morning Tom tossed me a copy of the _Daily Prophet_. Staring at the headline, I nearly choked on my chocolate milk. 'SCENES OF TERROR AT THE QUIDDITCH WORLD CUP', complete with a picture of the Dark Mark. I read the article. Death Eaters. Mum once told me part of the reason she moved to Canada was because of Voldemort. She said he wasn't getting her baby. When I was eleven, Mum told me that in 1981, Voldemort was defeated by a baby named Harry Potter, and that the Death Eaters and all that were no more.

But now, it seemed as though what my mother had run from, and what had been defeated was slowly coming back. Was I still safe going to Hogwarts? Would I still be going if I wasn't? Hell yes!


	4. Ch 4: The Hogwarts Express

**Disclaimer: Yes… maybe… no, it's not mine.**

* * *

**Chapter Four  
****The Hogwarts Express**

"_This time I make the rules  
I won't be nobody's fool_."  
Makin' My Way (Anyway That I Can)-Billie Piper

The days leading up to my departure, customers who knew me wished me luck. Two days before I had to leave, I walked from here to King's Cross, and it only took about forty minutes. So, for the first time during my two month stay, I asked for a wake up call.

Tom woke me up at eight o'clock. I rolled out of bed, literally. After picking myself off the floor, I stood in front of the mirror, and changed my hair to the black I had used when shopping for dress robes except it fell in loose curls. In length, it reached a little pass my shoulders. I threw on a deep blue turtleneck, and a pair of jeans. Glancing outside, I noticed it was still pouring. Making sure my jacket wasn't in my trunk, I closed it with a snap. All of my possessions were in my trunk, including Anya's basket. She'd be walking with me, as I wouldn't be able to carry her, and drag my trunk behind me. I headed downstairs for breakfast.

"Nervous?" Tom asked.

"A little," I replied. "And I'm a bit excited."

"You'll be fine, just stay away from the Slytherins," Tom advised.

"Thanks," I said.

"What house do you think you'll be in?"

"I'm hoping either Gryffindor or Ravenclaw," I answered.

A few minutes before ten, Tom brought my trunk downstairs, and put it by the door.

"Are you sure you don't want to take a Muggle taxi?" Tom asked, as I extracted my baseball cap, which had the Union Jack on it.

"Haven't got any Muggle money," I replied, putting my hat on, and my jacket. I pulled my hood over my hair and hat. "I'll be all right. A walk in the rain won't hurt me. Bye, Tom."

Ten minutes into my walk, I regretted my words. I wasn't soaked, I was drenched. Anya mewed next to me reproachfully.

"No, Anya, we can't take the Underground," I said. "Come on."

Thirty minutes later, I reached King's Cross. Gratefully, I ran across the road and into the station. I shrugged off my jacket, and wrung the water out of it. I slung it on my trunk, put it on a trolley, and continued to the barrier between platforms nine and ten.

"How should we do this, Anya?" I asked her. she jumped onto my trunk. "Running?"

I moved back as far as possible, and when there were no people, I began to run. Keeping my eyes wide open, I went through the barrier. Grinning like an idiot, I drank in the scene before me. For all its grandeur, Midstars would never be able to outdo Hogwarts.

The Hogwarts Express was a gleaming, scarlet steam engine. Steam billowed from it, creating a massive cloud on the platform where the other students and their parents appeared as dark shadows. Pushing the trolley, I began to look for a compartment. Ten minutes later, I had stowed my trunk into a compartment, and was busy drying Anya off with a towel Tom had given me. There was still ten minutes left until the train left.

"What've we gotten ourselves into, Anya?" I asked, scratching behind her ears. The whistle blew five minutes later.

"Thanks for having us stay, Mrs. Weasley," I heard a female voice say. I glanced out of the window, and sure enough, Mrs. Weasley was standing on the platform with two people who looked to be her children.

"Yeah, thanks for everything, Mrs. Weasley," another voice said, male this time.

"Oh, it was my pleasure, dears," Mrs. Weasley said. "I'd invite you for Christmas, but… well, I expect you're all going to want to stay at Hogwarts, what with… one thing or another."

"Mum!" said yet another male voice. "What d'you three know that we don't?"

"You'll find out this evening, I expect," Mrs. Weasley said. "It's going to be very exciting –mind you, I'm very glad they've changed the rules–"

"What rules?" four male voices asked.

"I'm sure Professor Dumbledore will tell you… now, behave, won't you? _Won't _you, Fred? And you, George?"

The pistons hissed loudly, and the train began to move.

"Tell us what's happening at Hogwarts!" a male voice bellowed, as the train began to gather speed. I got up, and closed the window, and made sure the compartment door was open a little. I saw a black-haired boy, brown-haired girl, a red-haired boy and girl pass my compartment. I decided to read _The Princess Bride_ once again. I stood up to get it.

* * *

_George's POV_

We were heading to our compartment, when I happened to glance into another compartment. Its occupant was a girl who looked to be our age. She was very beautiful. Her black hair was thick, and fell in loose curls. She was tall, and searching for something in her trunk.

"Who is she?" I asked Fred. He took a quick glance at her.

"Dunno, probably someone we just don't remember seeing," he answered. "Come on."

"I think we'd remember someone like _her_," I said. Fred took a good look at her.

"She's hot," he said.

"And so out of our league," Lee said, joining us.

"What? You don't think we could get her to go on a date with either of us?" I asked.

"Nope. Girl like her, she probably wouldn't even look at us," Lee said. "Come on."

I started to walk with my brother and friend, when I heard a clatter. The girl had dropped whatever she'd been looking for; it slid through the open compartment door. It was a book. She opened the door, and bent down to grab it the same time I did. After she realised I had picked up the book, she began to slowly straighten. When she and I were finally straight, our eyes met. Looking into her eyes, I saw misery, with a hint of anger, giving the impression of someone broke on the inside.

_I've only just met her, sorta_, I told myself firmly. So why did I want to kiss her?

We just stood there, frozen, staring into each other's eyes.

_Say something clever_, I said to myself. I tried to think of something, but my brain had stopped working.

"George, are you coming?" Fred called. We snapped out of our spell. I cursed my brother for his timing.

"Yeah," I called back. "Here's your book."

"Thanks," she said, taking it.

"I'm George, by the way," I said, turning to leave.

"Katharina," she said with a smile, grabbing the handle to shut the compartment door.

I left, and I heard her shut the door softly.

"You all right?" Fred asked, once I had joined him and Lee.

"Fine," I answered.

* * *

_Katharina's POV_

I opened the door, and bent down to pick up my book. Trouble was, someone had already picked it up. Slowly straightening up, I made eye contact with him. Big mistake. The two of us froze. His eyes were very blue, I felt as though you could get lost in them.

_I've just met him,_ I said sternly to myself. _For all you know, he could have a girlfriend. _So why did I want kiss him anyway? We stood there, unmoving, not breaking eye contact. His hair was flaming red, something I could easily mimic, if I wanted to, which I did.

_Say something,_ I told myself. _Something clever. _Problem was, my mind had abandoned me.

"George, are you coming?" George's twin called. We snapped back to reality. I thanked his brother's timing.

"Yeah," George called back. "Here's your book."

"Thanks," I said, taking it.

"I'm George, by the way," he said, turning to leave.

"Katharina," I said smiling, grabbing the door handle. He left, and I slid the door softly shut.

Deciding to sit before my knees gave out, I flopped into the nearest seat. What was that? I wanted to snog a total stranger. What is wrong with me?

_He's kind of cute._

He's a total stranger. I don't know him.

_Anya didn't do anything to him._

That doesn't prove anything.

_Well, at least we know he's trustworthy._

So? He could have a girlfriend.

_You know that's not true_.

Fine. But– but–

_But nothing. Face it, Kat, there was definitely something there_.

I don't have to admit anything.

_Fine. Be like that._

I will.

_Someone's in denial._

Yup. And I'll stay like that.

_You do that._

I will.

I had had crushes on the new guy at Midstars, until they proved to be jerks, but I never felt anything like that. That was… wow. I can't even describe it. Whatever house I'm in, I hope he isn't in it. Or avoiding him is going to be very difficult.

Deciding to get my mind off him, I picked up _The Princess Bride_, and began to read. This strategy began to fail once Buttercup realised Westley loved her, as I began to read the names as Katharina and George. Angrily, I fling the book at the opposite side of the compartment. Well, at least my legs didn't feel like jelly anymore. I got up, closed the blinds, and yanked my guitar case out of my trunk. I don't know why, but I began to play _Yellow Submarine_ by the Beatles. An hour or so later, the lunch trolley came by. I went out, and found many students gathered round it. All the boys fourteen and older were ogling at me. George and his twin were also there. I gave George a quick smile, before turning my attention to the witch.

"I'd like two Cauldron Cakes, three Chocolate Frogs, a bag of Bertie Bott's, a packet of Droobles, and a Liquorice Wand, please," I said, handing over the money. A couple of boys were still staring at me. "Take a picture, it'll last longer." I snapped.

I went back to my compartment, and closed the door. I put the sweets on the seat, and sat down. I opened the bag of jellybeans, and slowly began to eat them.

When it started to get dark, I changed into my Hogwarts robes. Nervousness began to settle in once the train slowed down. I pulled on my cloak, put on my hood, and levitated my trunk down. Once the train had completely stopped, I joined the throng heading out to the platform. The rain was coming down harder than ever. I followed the older students. They led me to expectant carriages pulled by Thestrals. I climbed into one, and Anya jumped in. I closed the door with a snap, and the carriage began to move. I held Anya close during the entire ride. We passed iron gates with winged boars on either side. I gasped as I saw the castle for the first time. It was huge, and styled higgledy-piggledy. I knew at once magic held it up. There were many turrets.

When the carriage had stopped, I sighed, and stepped out into the downpour. I ran up the stones, and prepared myself for the inevitable.


	5. Ch 5: The Triwizard Tournament

**Disclaimer: I scream, you scream, we all scream for Harry Potter. No, I do not own it.**

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**Chapter Five  
The Triwizard Tournament**

"_No excuses– no more bruises._"  
Black Eyes, Blue Tears- Shania Twain

I opened the massive oak doors, and stepped into the Entrance Hall. Immediately, I heard a splash behind me. I looked, and only found the shattered remains of a water balloon. I looked up, and found a _poltergeist_, a little man in a bell-covered hat, and wearing an orange bow-tie,floating above us. Despite myself, I grinned. Midstars never let poltergeists or ghosts within fifty feet of the school. Anya sat patiently by my feet. I glanced around the Hall. Who did I go to for directions to the Headmaster's office?

"PEEVES!" an angry voice yelled. "Peeves, come down here at ONCE!"

A teacher had come dashing out of the Great Hall. She skidded on the wet floor, and grabbed a student around the neck to prevent herself from falling. "Ouch –sorry, Miss Granger–"

"That's all right, Professor!" the student gasped, massaging her neck.

"Peeves, get down here NOW!" the teacher barked, straightening her pointed hat, and glared upwards through her square-rimmed glasses.

"Not doing nothing!" Peeves cackled, chucking another water balloon at several girls, who screamed, and ran into the Great Hall. "Already wet, aren't they? Little squirts! Wheeeeeeeeee!" He flung another balloon at a group of younger students who had just arrived.

"I shall call the Headmaster!" the teacher shouted. "I'm warning you, Peeves–"

Peeves stuck his tongue out, threw his last water balloon into the air, and flew up the marble staircase, cackling madly.

"Well, move along, then!" the teacher said sharply to the dishevelled crowd. "Into the Great Hall, come on!"

I picked Anya up, and slipping and sliding made my way over to the teacher.

"Excuse me, but I'm the transfer student, Katharina Wilkinson," I said once I had reached her. She looked very stern, and her black hair was twisted into a bun.

"Pleasure to meet you, Miss Wilkinson, I'm Professor McGonagall, Deputy Headmistress and Head of Gryffindor," McGonagall said. "You need to see the Headmaster. I'll have one of the ghosts take you there." She scanned around the Hall, and spotted a pearly-white figure. "Sir Nicholas!"

"Yes, Minerva?" Sir Nicholas asked.

"Could you take Miss Wilkinson to the Headmaster's office? She's a new student here, and needs to be Sorted," McGonagall explained.

"Very well, come on, Miss Wilkinson," Sir Nicholas said, leading the way up the marble staircase.

"So, what brings you to Hogwarts, Miss Wilkinson?" the ghost asked.

"My mother died two years ago, and my step-dad decided to send me here," I said. "I grew up in Canada, but my mother grew up here."

Sir Nicholas nodded, well, as best he could. My mother had told me about him. Nearly Headless Nick. We now stood in front of a stone gargoyle.

"Cockroach cluster."

The gargoyle sprang to life, and jumped aside.

"Go on," said Nick. "The stairs will take you straight to Dumbledore."

Hesitantly, I stepped through the gap, and onto slowly turning stairs. Once at the top, I was in front of a door with a brass knocker. Tentatively, I knocked on the door.

"Enter," a voice said. I opened the door, and entered the circular office. At the desk was Dumbledore. I'm actually meeting Dumbledore.

"Ah, you must be Katharina," he said. I nodded. "You look very much like Francesca."

"Really? She always said I looked like my father," I replied.

"Do you know who your father is?" Dumbledore asked.

I shook my head. "She never told me."

Dumbledore nodded his head, but he didn't press the subject. "We need to get you Sorted into a house. Please, have a seat." He gestured to a seat in front of his desk. I sat down, and put Anya down. Dumbledore got up, and went to shelf with a very patched old hat lay.

"This, Miss Wilkinson, is the Hogwarts Sorting Hat. All you need to do is place it on your head," Dumbledore explained. He handed me the Hat, and I placed it on my head.

"You're a Metamorphmagus?" a voice in my ear questioned. "Interesting. Courage, goodness, yes. Very smart. Very smart, indeed. Also very brave."

_Not in the same house as the Weasley twins, anything but that_, I thought.

"Not the same house as the Weasley twins? Well, that's a pity, because you belong in… _Gryffindor_!"

I took the Hat off. I was in the same house as my mum had been in.

"Very good. Well, the Sorting Ceremony certainly cannot start without the Sorting Hat," Dumbledore said. He picked it up, and I picked Anya back up. We exited his office, and headed back downstairs. McGonagall met us at the foot of the marble staircase. Professor Dumbledore handed her the Sorting Hat.

"The table farthest from the doors," Dumbledore told me.

I went into the Great Hall. Hundreds of thousands candles lit the vast room. I wasn't the only student coming in, a few more staggered in. I headed to the table farthest from the doors. I sat down at the very end of the table. I let Anya down near my feet, and she curled up on top of them.

I glanced at the dinnerware in front of me, the plates were made of gold, and most likely the goblets. Students gave me questioning looks. I ignored them. They would find out soon enough. A moment later, McGonagall walked in the Hall with the first years trailing behind her. She led them until they were in front of the staff table, lined them up with their backs to the teachers. She placed a three-legged stool in front of them, and placed the Sorting Hat on it. A rip near the brim opened, and the Hat began to sing:

"_A thousand years or more ago,  
__When I was newly sewn,  
__There lived four wizards of renown,  
__Whose names are still well known:  
__Bold Gryffindor, from wild moor,  
__Fair Ravenclaw, from glen,  
__Sweet Hufflepuff, from valley broad,  
__Shrewd Slytherin, from fen.  
__They shared a wish, a hope, a dream,  
__They hatched a daring plan  
__To educate young sorcerers  
__Thus Hogwarts School began.  
__Now each of these four founders  
__Formed their own house, for each  
__Did value different virtues  
__In the ones they had to teach.  
__By Gryffindor, the bravest were  
__Prized beyond the rest;  
__For Ravenclaw, the cleverest  
__Would always be the best;  
__For Hufflepuff, hard workers were  
__Most worthy of admission;  
__And power-hungry Slytherin  
__Loved those of great ambition.  
__While still alive they did divide  
__Their favourites from the throng,  
__Yet how to choose the worthy ones  
__When they were dead and gone?  
_'_Twas Gryffindor who found the way,  
__He whipped me off his head  
__The founders put some brains in me  
__So I could choose instead!  
__Now slip me snug about your ears,  
__I've never yet been wrong,  
__I'll have a look inside your mind  
__And tell where you belong!_"

The entire Hall burst into applause, and I did too. McGonagall unrolled a large scroll of parchment.

"When I call out your name, you will put on the Hat, and sit on the stool," she instructed the first years. "When the Hat announces your house, you will go and sit at the appropriate table.

"Ackerley, Stewart!"

A small boy walked forward, visibly shaking from head to toe. He sat on the stool, and put the Hat on.

"_Ravenclaw_!" the Hat shouted.

Ackerley took the Hat off, and scurried over to the Ravenclaw table, who were applauding loudly.

"Baddock, Malcolm!"

"_Slytherin_!"

The Weasley twins hissed as Baddock sat down at the Slytherin table.

"Branstone, Eleanor!"

"_Hufflepuff_!"

"Cauldwell, Owen!"

"_Hufflepuff_!"

"Creevey, Dennis!"

A very small boy walked forward wearing a very large coat.

"Gryffindor!"

All of Gryffindor table applauded.

"Dobbs, Emma!"

"_Ravenclaw_!"

The line slowly diminished as McGonagall reached the 'M's.

"Madley, Laura!"

"_Hufflepuff_!"

"McDonald, Natalie!"

"_Gryffindor_!"

McGonagall was now at 'P'.

"Pritchard, Graham!"

"_Slytherin_!"

"Quirke, Orla!"

"_Ravenclaw_!"

Finally, with 'Whitby, Kevin!' who became a Hufflepuff, the Sorting ended. McGonagall picked up the Hat and the stool, and took them away.

Dumbledore got to his feet. He smiled, and his arms opened wide in welcome.

"I only have two words to say to you," he said to us. "_Tuck in_."

The food appeared in front of us. I took a bit of everything, and filled my goblet with pumpkin juice. I ate quietly, talking to no one, as I had done for the last ten years. As everyone caught up with their friends, and chatted excitedly, I began to feel very lonely. I was grateful when Dumbledore stood up after we had all had our fill of the puddings. The plates were sparkling clean once again. The chatter died away immediately, and only the howling of the rain and wind could be heard.

"So!" Dumbledore said, smiling at all of us. "Now that we're all fed and watered, I must once more ask for your attention, while I give out a few notices.

"Mr. Filch, the caretaker, has asked me to tell you that the list of objects forbidden inside the castle has this year been extended to include Screaming Yo-yos, Fanged Frisbees, and Ever-Bashing Boomerangs. The full list comprises some four hundred and thirty-seven items, I believe, and can be viewed in Mr. Filch's office, if anybody would like to check it."

The corners of Dumbledore's mouth twitched.

"As ever, I would like to remind you all that the Forest in the grounds is out-of-bounds to students as is the village of Hogsmeade to all below third year.

"It is also my painful duty to inform you that the inter-house Quidditch Cup will not take place this year.

"This is due to an event that will be starting in October," Dumbledore continued, "and continuing throughout the school year, taking up much of the teachers' time and energy– but I'm sure you will all enjoy it immensely. I have great pleasure in announcing that this year at Hogwarts–"

There was a deafening clap of thunder, and the doors to the Great Hall banged open.

A man stood there, leaning against a staff, wearing a black travelling cloak. Every head in the Great Hall swivelled towards the doors. The stranger was suddenly illuminated by a fork of lightning across the ceiling. He lowered his hood, and shook out a mane of dark grey hair. He began to walk towards the staff table.

A dull _clunk_ could be heard with every other step. The man reached the staff table, and turned towards Dumbledore. Another flash of lightning flickered across the ceiling. I gasped.

The lightning had completely lit the man's face. It was unlike any face I've ever seen. It had vague human features. Every inch of skin was scarred. The mouth appeared to be a diagonal gash, and he was missing a large piece of his nose. The man's eyes, however, made him frightening.

One was small, dark, and beady. The other, vivid blue, large, and round. That eye moved quite independently of the other, non-stop and without blinking.

He had reached Dumbledore. He stretched out his hand, which was just as scarred as his face, and Dumbledore shook it, muttering words no one could hear. Dumbledore appeared to be asking the stranger a question, because he shook his head, and replied in an undertone. Dumbledore gestured to the empty seat next to him.

The man sat down, shook his hair out of his face, pulled a plate of sausages towards him, raised it to his nose, and sniffed it. He extracted a knife from his pocket, speared the end of a sausage, and began to eat it. His normal eye was fixed on the sausages, but his blue eye looked around interminably, taking in the Hall and the students.

"May I introduce our new Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher," said Dumbledore brightly, smiling at us yet again. "Professor Moody."

I expected some sort of applause for the new teacher, but neither students nor staff applauded, except for Dumbledore and a teacher at the end of the table. Both applauded, but the sound echoed dismally off the walls, and they stopped rather quickly. Everyone seemed too transfixed by Moody's appearance to do anything else.

Moody didn't seem to mind his less-than-warm welcome. Ignoring the jug of pumpkin juice in front of him, he reached into his cloak again, and pulled out a flask. He took a long sip from it. His cloak had raised a few inches off the ground, and under the table, I could see a wooden leg, ending in a clawed foot.

Dumbledore cleared his throat again.

"As I was saying," Dumbledore said, still smiling at us, though everyone was still looking at Moody, "we are to have the honour of hosting a very exciting event over the coming months, an event which has not been held for over a century. It is my very great pleasure to inform you that the Triwizard Tournament will be taking place at Hogwarts this year."

"You're JOKING!" one of the Weasley twins said loudly.

The tension that had seeped into the Hall with Moody's arrival, broke suddenly.

Mostly everyone laughed, and even Dumbledore chuckled.

"I am _not _joking, Mr. Weasley," he said, "though, now you mention it, I did hear an excellent one over the summer about a troll, a hag, and a leprechaun who all got into a bar–"

McGonagall cleared her throat loudly.

"Er– but maybe this is not the time… no…" Dumbledore said. "Where was I? Ah yes, the Triwizard Tournament… well, some of you will not know what this Tournament involves, so I hope those who _do_ know will forgive me for giving a short explanation, and allow their attention to wander freely.

"The Triwizard Tournament was first established some seven hundred years ago, as a friendly competition between the three largest European schools of wizardry– Hogwarts, Beauxbatons, and Durmstrang. A champion was selected to represent each school, and the three champions competed in three magical tasks. The schools took it in turns to host the Tournament once every five years, and it was generally agreed to be a most excellent way of establishing ties between young witches and wizards of different nationalities– until the death toll mounted so high that the Tournament was discontinued."

Death toll? They had let this Tournament continue, though students had died? And here I thought my life rough.

"There have been several attempts over the centuries to reinstate the Tournament," Dumbledore continued, "none of which have been very successful. However, our own Departments of International Magical Co-operation and Magical Games and Sports have decided the time is ripe for another attempt. We have worked hard over the summer to ensure that, this time, no champion will find himself or herself in mortal danger.

"The Heads of Beauxbatons and Durmstrang will be arriving with their short-listed contenders with in October, and the selection of the three champions at Hallowe'en. An impartial judge will decide which students are most worthy to compete for the Triwizard Cup, the glory of their school, and a thousands Galleons personal prize money."

"I'm going for it!" hissed the same twin down the table. His face lit with enthusiasm at the prospect of such glory and money. He was not the only one; at every house table, people were gazing at Dumbledore with the utmost attention, or whispering fervently to friends. But once Dumbledore began to speak again, the Hall quietened immediately.

"Eager though I know all of you will be to bring the Triwizard Cup to Hogwarts, the Heads of the participating schools, along with the Ministry of Magic, have agreed to impose an age restriction on contenders this year. Only students who are of age –that is to say, seventeen years or older– will be allowed to put forward their names for consideration. This–" Dumbledore raised his voice slightly as students made angry outbursts, and the Weasley twins looked furious. "–is a measure we feel necessary, given that the Tournament tasks will still be difficult and dangerous, whatever precautions we take, and it is highly unlikely that students below sixth and seventh year will be able to cope with them. I will personally be ensuring no underage student hoodwinks our impartial judge into making them Hogwarts champion. I therefore beg you not to waste your time submitting yourself if you are under seventeen.

"The delegations from Beauxbatons and Durmstrang will be arriving in October, and remaining with us for the greater part for of this year. I know that you will all extend every courtesy to our foreign guests while they are with us, and will give your whole-hearted support to the Hogwarts champion when he or she is selected. And now, it is late, and I know how important it is to you all to be alert and rested as you enter your lessons tomorrow morning. Bedtime! Chop chop!"

Dumbledore sat down again, and began to talk to Moody. There was scraping and banging as all of the students got up, and headed towards the Entrance Hall.

I quickly grabbed Anya, and followed the rest of the Gryffindors out of the Great Hall. They led me up the marble staircase, and up about six more floors. We now stood in front of a portrait of a very fat lady wearing a pink silk dress.

"Password?" she asked.

"Balderdash," someone replied.

The portrait swung forwards to reveal a hole in the wall. Everyone climbed in, and I found myself in a large, cosy, circular room. There was a fire crackling merrily, and the room was full of tables, and squashy armchairs.

I followed the girls to the staircase that led to each year's separate dormitories. I gratefully tumbled into the sixth years' dormitory. There was only one bed without the curtains closed. My bed. I dug my pyjamas out of my trunk, put them on, and flopped into bed. I drew the curtains closed, pulled Anya close, and fell asleep, feeling safe for the first time in four years.

* * *

**Author's Note: Wasn't too long of a wait, was it? Almost a week. By the way, that song, _Black Eyes, Blue Tears_ is perfect for Kat.**


	6. Ch 6: My First Week

**Disclaimer: I should like to. Think she'll give it to me for Christmas?**

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**Chapter Six  
My First Week**

"_Waking up I see that everything is okay  
The first time in my life and now it's so great_,"  
Innocence- Avril Lavigne

I woke early the next morning. It took me a moment to remember where I was. Then last night all came flooding back to me. I'm at _Hogwarts_. I could hear my dorm mates moving around. I noticed that, for once, my hair hadn't changed during the night. I took a deep breath, and opened my curtains. Immediately, all the movement stopped, and the attention was directed at me. Pretending not to notice, I kicked open my trunk, and dug for my robes.

"Who're you?" a girl asked. I glanced behind me, the girl was tall, and black.

"New student," I answered indifferently, tugging at my robes, pretty certain they had snagged on something.

"Yeah, I can see that," the girl said, "but that doesn't answer my question."

Almost falling backwards, because I had tugged at my robes with unnecessary force, I turned around to face them. There were six girls in total.

"Fine. I transferred here from Canada, 'cause my jackass stepfather sent me here, which is all right with me, because I hate his guts," I said. Probably should've left it at I'm from Canada, but my temper always did get the better of me. "I'm Kat Wilkinson, by the way," I added, my tone a tad more pleasant.

The girl looked slightly taken aback. "I'm Angelina Johnson, this is Alicia Spinnet," she said, pointing to a girl next to her.

"Patricia Stimpson," a girl with light brown hair said.

"Jody Orville," another girl said, she was short, and had short, brown hair.

"Laurie Russell," said a girl with chestnut brown hair.

"Tori Adams," a girl with golden blonde hair said.

"Nice to meet you all," I said, getting dressed, and grabbed my books. With Anya following, I headed towards the door. I went down the stairs, and entered the common room. Ignoring the stares from the older students, I exited through the portrait hole, and headed to the Great Hall for breakfast. I sat down, and ate my breakfast alone.

Unsure of what to do after I ate, I remained in my seat. I noticed the other sixth years had remained seated. After a few minutes, McGonagall had left the staff table, and made her way towards us. She went to each student, and cleared what subjects they were allowed to take.

"Miss Wilkinson, we received your OWL marks yesterday, and I must say, I'm very impressed. Eleven 'Outstandings'. So which subjects would you like to continue taking?"

"All except History of Magic and Care of Magical Creatures," I replied. She tapped a blank schedule with her wand, and handed it to me. My first class was Arithmancy.

"Um, Professor, I don't know where the Arithmancy classroom is," I said.

"Not a problem," said McGonagall. "Miss Johnson, could you show Miss Wilkinson where the Arithmancy classroom is?"

"Sure, Professor," Angelina said. "Come on, Kat, we don't want to be too late."

I follow her and Alicia out of the Great Hall. The discussion immediately turned to Quidditch.

"Do you follow Quidditch, Kat?" Angelina asked. "I'm sure I read somewhere it's not a very popular sport in Canada."

"You're confusing Canada with America," I said. "I follow Quidditch, even play it."

"What position?" Alicia asked.

"Chaser or Beater," I answered. We had reached the classroom. I walked in and sat down at a seat in the back. The teacher explained that we were to copy the note on the blackboard for the first half of the period. She then came to talk to me. She introduced herself as Professor Vector, and should I ever need any help, just to come and ask her. After Arithmancy, I had a spare, so I headed outside to have a look at the grounds. They were much bigger than Midstars. Midstars would never be able to compare. I could just see my old classmates. They'd say it's shabby… dirty… antique… They'd never be able to feel the magic. They'd probably run screaming after seeing the ghosts.

I glanced at my watch. I had ten minutes to make it to Charms. I headed back into the castle. I hadn't the faintest inkling where to go, though. I walked up the marble staircase, and found Nearly Headless Nick.

"Sir Nicholas?"

"Yes, m'dear?"

"Could you show me where the Charms classroom is, please?"

"Certainly," he said. We set off. "I noticed you were sitting at the Gryffindor table last night. Well done."

"Thank you."

"How do you like Hogwarts?"

"I haven't been here for a day, but it's magnificent."

We didn't talk much after that. I concentrated on where I was going. I even went through a door pretending to be a wall. With a few minutes to spare, we finally reached the Charms classroom.

"If you ever get lost, just call for me, and I'll help you out," Nick said before drifting off.

"Thanks," I said, before heading in. I went to the teacher. He was very tiny.

"Ah, Miss Wilkinson, I'm Professor Flitwick," Flitwick said in a squeaky voice. "You can partner with Mr. Diggory today." Flitwick pointed to a good-looking boy, who waved to me. Hoping Diggory was smart, I grudgingly walked over to where he sat, and fell into the chair next to him. It was then I noticed who else was there. George and his twin. I also happened to notice I was getting a lot of glares from the girls. Ignoring them, I set to today's task.

Turns out Diggory's first name is Cedric, and that he's a Hufflepuff, and a Seeker on Hufflepuff's Quidditch team.

"Ignore them," Cedric said.

"Huh?"

"The girls giving you the death glares," Cedric explained. "Any girl sitting next to me usually gets them."

"Used to it?" I asked.

"Unfortunately. Though I must admit, getting death glares from the guys is a new experience," he said.

"Sorry," I apologized.

"It's not your fault, you can't choose how you look," Cedric said. _Oh, but I can_, I thought. Of course, I didn't tell him that.

Afterwards, it was time for lunch. I headed with the rest of the school to the Great Hall. I ate my lunch alone, and had a spare again, so I found Nick, and went to the library. I finished most of my Arithmancy homework, before I went to Transfiguration.

McGonagall explained that now we're sixth years, we should be able to do non-verbal spells. I did it very successfully. I explained to McGonagall I had been in an enrichment program at Midstars, because I had been finding my lessons to easy in certain subjects. I was dismayed to find the Weasley twins in that class too. When the bell had rung, I had Muggle Studies. There were only four other students besides me. Two Ravenclaws, a Hufflepuff, and Patricia Stimpson. I sat next to Patricia, and the teacher introduced herself as Professor Burbage. She then explained that our first unit would focus on Muggle pop culture. Next, we had a short fifteen minute break. When the bell rang, I went to my final class for the day. Defence Against the Dark Arts. I chose a seat at the back.

Moody came in, and he asked us to put our books away. Murmurs of interest rose.

"Now, you seem to be pretty much where you need to be," he said, after doing attendance. "Which means I can show you what illegal curses can do. What wizards can do to each other. You need to know how to protect yourself against them. CONSTANT VIGILANCE!" he roared, causing a few people to jump.

"Three of these curses, known as the Unforgivable Curses, will land you a life sentence in Azkaban," Moody continued. "Anybody know at least one?"

Several hands went into the air.

"Yes, Miss… Spinnet?" he asked Alicia.

"The Imperius Curse."

"Ah, yes, gave the Ministry a lot of trouble, that one did," Moody said, going over to his desk. He pulled a jar out containing three spiders. He placed the jar on his desk, and grabbed a spider. He placed the spider on the desk, and the spider didn't even move.

"_Imperio_."

With a twitch of his wand, the spider began to do somersaults. With another twitch of his wand, the spider did cartwheels, and back flips, all sorts of stuff it normally wouldn't do. With a jerk of his wand, the spider rose on two legs, and began to do the Macarena.

Everybody was laughing, except for me and Moody. Though seeing a spider do the Macarena is slightly amusing. I say slightly, because I've had the Imperius Curse used on me by Karl, to control me, but I learned how to fight it the first three times.

"Think it funny, do you?" Moody growled. "Would you like it, if I did it to you?" The laughter died immediately.

"Total control," Moody said quietly, as the spider balled itself up, and began rocking back and forth. "I could make it drown itself, fall out the window, throw itself down your robes…

"Years ago, many witches and wizards were being controlled by the Imperius Curse. Tough job for the Ministry, let me tell you, to sort out who had been forced, and who had been acting out of their own free will.

"The Imperius Curse can be fought, and I will teach you how, but it takes real strength of character, and not everyone has it. Better avoid being hit with it if you can. CONSTANT VIGILANCE!" he roared again, and as before, everyone jumped.

He picked up the spider, and put it back in the jar. "Anyone else know another? Another Unforgivable?"

Several people raised their hands, I among them.

"Miss Wilkinson?"

"_Avada Kedavra_," I whispered. Several people looked uneasily around at me. "The Killing Curse."

"Ah," Moody said, a slight smile on his face. "Yes, the worst… the very worst. _Avada Kedavra._"

He put his hand in the jar, and grabbed another spider. He placed on his desk, and it tried to scuttle away. Moody caught it, and held it still until he had raised his wand.

"_Avada Kedavra_!" Moody bellowed.

There was a flash of blinding green light, and a rushing sound– the sound of Death coming to take the spider's life. Instantaneously, the spider rolled onto its back, unmarked, but clearly dead. Several girls stifled cries. Moody swept the spider off the desk, and onto the floor.

"Not pleasant," Moody said in a calm voice. "There's no counter-curse. No blocking it. Only one known person has ever survived, and his name is Harry Potter.

"_Avada Kedavra_'s a curse with powerful bit of magic behind it. You could all take your wands out, and I'd probably only get a nose-bleed. But that doesn't matter; I'm not here to teach you how to do it.

"If there's no counter-curse, why am I showing you? _Because you've got to know. _Better you see it here the first time, then facing it in the real world for the first time.

"Now, does anyone know which curse we are missing?"

Several hands went into the air for the last time, while I steeled myself to relive repressed and painful memories.

"Mr. Diggory?"

"The Cruciatus Curse," Cedric answered.

Moody grabbed the third and final spider, and placed it upon the wooden surface, where it remained, unmoving, scared. As it should be.

"Needs to be a bit bigger for you to see," Moody said. _No, it doesn't_, I thought, trying to think of a clever excuse to leave the classroom.

"_Engorgio_!"

The spider swelled past the size of a tarantula. Moody raised his hand once more, pointed it at the poor, unsuspecting spider, and said, "_Crucio_!"

Instantly, the spider's legs bent upon its body, it rolled over, and began to twitch rather horribly. I emphasised with the spider. The unbearable pain. The pain of a thousand white-hot knives cutting into my skin. The feeling of my very bones on fire. My eyes rolling madly in my head. Wanting it to end… pass out… anything… to die even… Vaguely aware I was screaming, but no sound coming out. Silenced. My mum screaming at him to stop… stop, and torture her instead… just not her baby girl… _Him _laughing, drinking Firewhisky and vodka… Vanessa crying in the corner… And me… me lying there after it was all over, shaking so badly, thinking what had I done to deserve this? To have that kind of pain to be inflicted on me, while he laughed at my helplessness, my mother's helplessness, his total control…

I forced myself back into the present as he tortured the spider. The class eerily silent, all watching the spider. I noticed the look in Moody's eye, the same look Karl had had when he tortured Vanessa and I. Moody was enjoying this. I watched to see when Moody would end it, but he didn't. With more memories threatening to resurface, I did the only thing I could think of, I ran. No one so much as glanced at me, they were too transfixed. I highly doubted Moody would say anything. I thought I saw someone glance my way, but when I looked again, everyone's gaze was drawn to the front. I ran to the end of corridor; I leant against the wall, but slid down as my legs gave way. I shook all over. Tears cascaded down my face as they had done when I was fourteen. I drew my knees to face, rested my head on them, and stayed like that 'til the bell rang, which I was only dimly aware of.

"Are you all right?" a voice asked gently. I looked up, only to find George Weasley standing directly in front of me, looking down at me.

"Fine," I said, wiping away the tears. "Absolutely fine," I added, not in a very convincing tone, which I'm sure he could tell.

"Well, here are your books," George said, raising my bag a few inches, ignoring my tone. "It's dinner time now."

"Oh," I said blankly. I looked behind him to see a crowd of students heading towards the Great Hall, and his twin, standing a few feet away.

"Would you like to come down with us? Not to stay and eat with us," he added hastily, "but just walk to the Great Hall with us?"

"Sure." I felt myself slightly smile, I was sure his face had reddened slightly. He offered me his hand, I accepted, and he pulled me to my feet. I took my bag, shouldered it, and we joined the crowd going to the Great Hall. When we reached the last stair, we heard a male voice.

"And there's a picture, Weasley!" said a boy with sleek, blond hair, flipping over a newspaper for everyone to see the picture. We joined the crowd. "A picture of your parents outside their house– if you can call it a house! Your mother could do with losing some weight, couldn't she?"

A tall, red-haired kid shook with fury. Everyone stared at him. He looked to be the twins' brother.

"Get stuffed, Malfoy," the same black-haired boy I had seen pass my compartment yesterday said. "C'mon Ron…"

"Oh, yeah, you were staying with this summer, weren't you, Potter?" Malfoy sneered. "So tell me, is his mother really that porky, or is it just the picture?"

"You know _your _mother, Malfoy?" said Potter –both he and Granger had grabbed Ron's robes– "That expression she's got, like she's got dung under her nose? Has she always looked like that, or was it because you were with her?"

Malfoy's face went slightly pink. "Don't you dare insult my mother, Potter."

"Keep your fat mouth shut, then," Potter said, turning away.

There was a loud BANG as Malfoy took out his wand. A flash of light just missed Potter's face. His hand plunged into his robes, for his wand I suppose, but before he could grab it, another BANG went off.

"OH, NO, YOU DON'T, LADDIE!"

I looked behind me to see Moody limping down the marble stairs, his wand out, and pointing at a pure white ferret, which shivered on the stone floor, exactly where Malfoy had been.

A horrified silence filled the Entrance Hall. No one but Moody moved a muscle. Moody looked at Potter, well, his normal eye, anyway, the other had rolled into the back of his head.

"Did he get you?" Moody growled.

"No, missed," Potter replied.

"LEAVE IT!" Moody shouted.

"Leave– what?" Potter said, confused.

"Not you– him!" Moody growled, pointing his shoulder over at a burly, mean-looking boy, who had froze, about to pick up the ferret. Apparently, Moody's eye is magical, and can see out of the back of his head.

Moody limped over towards the two burly boys, and the ferret, which gave a terrified squeak, and darted towards the dungeons.

"I don't think so!" Moody roared, pointing his wand at the ferret. It flew ten feet into the air, fell with a smack to the floor, and bounced upwards again.

"I don't like people who attack when their opponent's back's turned," Moody growled, as the ferret bounced higher and higher, squeaking in pain. "Stinking, cowardly, scummy thing to do…"

The ferret soared through the air, its legs and arms thrashed helplessly.

"Never– do –that– again–" Moody said, with word the ferret hit and bounced off the floor again.

"Professor Moody!" exclaimed a shocked voice.

McGonagall came down the marble staircase, her arms full of books.

"Hello, Professor McGonagall." Moody said calmly, still bouncing the ferret higher.

"What– what are you doing?" asked McGonagall, watching the ferret's progress through the air.

"Teaching," Moody answered simply.

"Teach– Moody, _is that a student_?" McGonagall shrieked, the books crashed to the floor.

"Yep," Moody said.

"No!" McGonagall cried, running down the stairs, and drawing her wand. A moment later, with a loud snapping noise, Malfoy reappeared, lying in a heap on the floor, his blond hair over his bright pink face. He rose to his feet, wincing.

"Moody, we _never_ use Transfiguration as a punishment!" McGonagall exclaimed weakly. "Surely Professor Dumbledore told you that?"

"He might've mentioned it, yeah," Moody said unconcernedly, "but I thought a good sharp shock–"

"We give detentions, Moody! Or speak to the offender's Head of House!"

"I'll do that, then," Moody said, looking at Malfoy with dislike.

Malfoy, whose eyes watered with pain and humiliation, looked malevolently at Moody, muttered something in which the words, 'my father' were distinguishable.

"Oh, yeah?" Moody said quietly, walking forward a few steps. "Well, I know your father of old, boy… you tell him Moody's keeping a close eye on his son… you will tell him that from me… now, your Head of House'll be Snape, will it?"

"Yes," Malfoy replied resentfully.

"Another old friend," Moody said. "I've been looking forward to a chat with old Snape… come on, you…" He seized Malfoy's upper arm, and dragged him to the dungeons.

McGonagall watched apprehensively after them. She looked at her fallen books, took her wand, waved it, and caused her books to fly into her arms.

"Who _is_ Malfoy?" I asked.

"A git," answered Fred.

"A prat," replied George.

"I'm getting the sense you don't like him," I said, setting off for the Great Hall.

"His name's Draco Malfoy, and he's a pure-blood, fourth year Slytherin," George explained. "Thinks Muggles and Muggle-borns are scum, and Muggle-borns shouldn't be allowed in."

"Huh, he sounds like my old school, that's a bit unfair," I said. Before either could ask any questions, I disappeared into the Great Hall.

* * *

My second day of classes was all right, but on the morning of my third day, I had my first Potions class at Hogwarts. I went to the dungeons with Angelina and Alicia. We lined up outside the door with the rest of the NEWT students –there weren't that many–, and patiently waited to be welcomed into the classroom.

"Just so you know, Snape's really nasty," Angelina said. "He hates all the houses, except for Slytherin, but he'll favour the other houses over Gryffindor, and he'll probably pick on you, because you're the new student."

She finished just as the door opened. Snape wore all black, and his black hair was extremely greasy.

"Enter," he said. The class filed in. There were three separate potions brewing. I sat next to the Amortentia, and took a deep breath. I could smell chocolate, snow, and a third, familiar smell I couldn't quite place.

"These are potions you should be able to brew by the end of the year. Wilkinson!"

I looked up. "Yes, sir?"

He pointed to a potion that, to the untrained eye, looked like boiling water. "What potion is that?"  
"Veritaserum, a colourless, odourless, potion that forces the drinker to tell the truth." His finger moved to a potion that looked like mud. "Polyjuice Potion, a potion that will change the drinker's appearance to that of another's for one hour. Only works for humans though." He pointed to the cauldron nearest me. "Amortentia, the most powerful love potion in the world. It smells differently to each of us."

Snape said nothing. "Today, you will be making the Draught of Living Death. I want a perfect, or near perfect potion by the end of the period. Begin."

Snape circulated throughout the classroom, criticizing our work, but when he reached me, he found nothing wrong with my work. He merely sneered, and continued on his way. Forty minutes later, I handed in a perfect potion.

* * *

By the end of the week, I felt as though I had been living someone else's life, or in a dream. I don't want to switch or wake up. I had finally relaxed around my classmates (other than the Slytherins). I'm doing well in my classes, and Vanessa and Iris both sent me a letter. I had only got lost once. I discovered there's an Owlery, and anyone could use the school owls.

I didn't like Moody, though. Everyone else (not including the Slytherins) loved Moody. There was something about him I didn't trust. Neither did Anya, who hissed whenever he walked by. There's something definitely strange. Although I don't like Moody or Snape, I don't want to be anywhere but here. Iris and Phil were right, Hogwarts _is_ better. So why did Karl send me here? I looked after him, I was his entertainment. Why did he let me go so easily? Something's wrong.


	7. Ch 7: Foreign Guests

**Disclaimer: Je n'ai jamais, je ne verrai jamais.**

* * *

**Chapter Seven  
Foreign Guests**

"_I don't know if I need you  
But, ooh, I'd die to find out._"  
I Want You- Savage Garden

After nearly two whole months of school, and the fact I was getting tired of the constant black, I decided to let the entire school know I'm a Metamorphmagus. I woke up, and went into the washroom, changing my hairstyle until I decided on something. I decided on blonde. I pulled half of my hair back, and curled the rest. I went back into the dorm.

"Kat, your hair… it's blonde," Angelina said.

"I'm Metamorphmagus," I explained, grabbing my books, and left the dormitory. I entered the common room, no other sixth year was in there, so I headed to the Great Hall. No one noticed as I walked in, and sat down at the Gryffindor table.

"Katharina, your hair…" George began, but trailed off.

"I'm a Metamorphmagus," I said. The twins gave me blank looks. "I can change my appearance at will."

"You can change how you look? Whenever?" Fred asked.

"Basically," I answered, buttering myself some toast. "But I only change my hair colour. The last two months have been torture."

"Yeah, can't imagine what it's like to have the same hair colour your whole life," Fred said sarcastically.

"Well, it's hard for me, because I change my hair colour to either represent my mood, or to whatever I feel like that day," I said. "And today I feel like blonde."

"So, you can change your hair to any colour?" George asked.

"Any colour," I confirmed, taking a bite of toast. "I can change my eye colour too. Any colour, but I like hazel better. What?"

"Nothing," George said, with an amused look. "You're just one of the oddest girls we've met."

"Thank you."

We didn't talk too much, but ate our breakfast, though I did walk with the twins and Lee Jordan to Defence Against the Dark Arts.

We were about to take our seats when Moody entered.

"Do not sit down, today is a practical lesson," Moody said. "Place your bags on your desks, and stand at the back of the classroom. I will be placing the Imperius Curse on each of you to demonstrate its power, and to see if any of you can resist it."

"But, Professor," Patricia Stimpson began, "it's illegal."

"Dumbledore wants you taught what it feels like," Moody said, sweeping the desks away with his wand, leaving an empty space in the middle of the room.

Moody beckoned students forward one by one, and placed the Curse on them. Jody Orville sang the school song to the tune of Happy Birthday, Lee mimicked a dog, and a Slytherin sang London Bridge, a Muggle nursery rhyme. Not one student seemed to be able to fight off the Imperius Curse. They were only free when Moody released them.

"Wilkinson, you're next," Moody growled. I moved to the centre of the room, and relaxed my body for what was coming. Moody pointed his wand at me. "_Imperio_."

The same wonderful feeling flowed through me as it had before. The feeling of floating on air. Every thought and worry exited my brain, leaving it blissfully unaware. I was vaguely aware everyone's eyes were upon me.

Next I heard Moody's voice in the back of my head: _Do the chicken dance while singing the Canadian national anthem in French…. Come on, do it… sing and dance…_

As before my conscious came to my rescue. Why? That is a very ridiculous thing to do, if you ask me. I'm not doing that, no way, I don't want to.

_Do the chicken dance while singing the Canadian national anthem in French, come on…_

No way. You cannot make me, not if I don't want to do it. And I don't want to make a fool out of myself, whether willingly, or unwillingly. I'm new here. Besides, I can't remember the whole thing in French.

_Sing and dance…_

"No," I spoke aloud. I was free once again. Ha. Take that Moody.

"Look at that, all of you," Moody said. "Wilkinson fought it off completely. Once more, Miss Wilkinson. Watch her eyes, that's where you'll see it. _Imperio._"

Once more I was unaware and happy. Again I heard Moody's voice: _Imitate a wolf_.

I don't think so. I'm not a little kid anymore.

_Imitate a wolf_.

I don't want to, Professor.

_Come on, imitate a wolf._

"I said, I don't want to," I said aloud, free again. The class looked at me amazed.

"Thank you, Miss Wilkinson, you're finished now," Moody said. Thank Merlin. I walked over to where I had been standing before.

"George Weasley, you next," Moody said. George walked to the centre of the room, and faced Moody. "_Imperio_."

George's eyes glazed over as the Curse took effect. I saw the internal battle go on in George; he looked as though he was winning, but in the end gave in the Imperius Curse. He strode over to me, grabbed me, and pulled me closer to him; his eyes totally glazed. _What the h–_? I thought before his lips met mine. My eyes closed, as did his, and I kissed back without thinking. A few seconds later, I realised what I was doing, and stopped. Remembering he was under the Imperius Curse, I gently pushed him away, muttering, "Not like this, George… not like this."

Once he was a foot or two in front of me, Moody released George from Curse. I knew George remembered everything.

"Wilkinson, before Mr. Weasley kissed you–" George blushed ever so slightly here "–what did you notice about him?" Moody asked, I felt my face flush slightly too.

"He was fighting the Curse off," I answered, looking at the floor to avoid everyone's gaze. My legs shook, and I wanted to sit down very much so, but I could not, because everyone would then know the impact that kiss had on me. As George returned to the centre of the room for another go, I really hoped Moody did **not **tell him to kiss me again, or whatever he told George to do, though part of me craved another kiss, but the only reason I don't want him to kiss me again is because I'm not sure I'll be able to resist myself.

I raced out of the classroom when the bell signalled the end of class half an hour later. Moody had put the class through the Imperius Curse a few more times, some came very close. Despite my efforts to get a few feet ahead, the twins and Lee were only a foot behind me.

"What did Moody tell you to do?" Fred asked his brother.

"He told me to snog who I thought is the most beautiful girl in the room," George answered. My face reddened a bit more. _Goddammit George. _

"And that's Katharina?" Lee said, I could hear a trace of amusement in his voice. "What was it like?"

"What do you mean?" George asked.

"We saw her kiss back," Fred explained. _Oh, _fudge.

"I dunno how to explain it…" George trailed off.

"You sound like a bunch of gossiping schoolgirls," I called over my shoulder, more to save myself, and spare George for now. I sped up before any questions could be asked. A couple minutes later, I gratefully collapsed into a chair. I didn't know how much longer my legs could last.

At lunch, when I reached the Entrance Hall, there was no room to move, because a sign had been put up by the marble staircase. Taller than most of the students, I looked over their heads to read the sign.

_TRIWIZARD TOURNAMENT_

_The delegations from Beauxbatons and Durmstrang will be arriving at six o'clock on Friday 30__th__ of October. Lessons will end half an hour early. Students will return their bags and books to their dormitory to greet our guest before the Welcoming Feast._

Wow, I had forgotten the Triwizard Tournament will begin on Hallowe'en. I can't wait. I'm very glad Karl decided to send me to Hogwarts this year, and I will not be missing out on the fun.

* * *

Everywhere I went for the next week, the talk was only about the Tournament. What will the tasks be? Who's entering as the Hogwarts champion, and who will it be? How will the Beauxbatons and Durmstrang students differ from themselves? The castle itself went through an extra-thorough cleaning. The portraits had been scrubbed clean, the dirt and grime removed entirely, much to the disappoint of the inhabitants of each portrait, who huddled in their corners, touching their raw pink faces, wincing. The suits of armours were shiny once again, and moved without any creaking.

The teachers too were oddly tense. McGonagall and Snape extremely critical at anyone's mistakes, no matter how simple.

George and I haven't talked about what happened in Defence Against the Dark Arts that day, though each of us get a fair bit of teasing over it from the classmates who witnessed it. All of my dorm mates teased me when we went to bed, except for Tori Adams. Patricia pulled me aside, and explained that Tori fancied George, but I'm not to take that personally, because George had been under the Imperius Curse. Another problem I had is every time George came close to me, I wished he'd kiss me again.

On the morning of the thirtieth, I went down to the Great Hall for breakfast as usual, and found the Great Hall had been decorated overnight. Enormous silk banners hung on the walls, each representing a house- red with a gold lion for Gryffindor, blue with a bronze eagle for Ravenclaw, yellow with a black badger for Hufflepuff, and green with a silver serpent for Slytherin. Behind the High Table, the largest banner of all hung, bearing the Hogwarts' coat of arms.

Lessons were much more enjoyable today, probably because everyone cared more about the arrival of Beauxbatons and Durmstrang than our actual lessons today, and Flitwick didn't even bother teaching us today, giving us the chance to talk about the Tournament, or do absolutely nothing. I pulled out a book (_The Little Princess_ this time), and added to the conversation now and again. When the bell rang half an hour earlier than normal, everyone quickly left the classroom, and rushed off to their separate dormitories. I took my violet hair out of the braid I had had it in all day, and brushed it out. I changed my hair to represent all four main house colours– scarlet, yellow, blue, and green. I grabbed my cloak, and put my hat on my head. All of us headed down to the Entrance Hall together.

"Interesting hair colour choice, Katharina," George said.

"Thank you," I said, grinning.

The Heads of Houses were ordering their students into lines.

"Weasley, straighten your hat," McGonagall snapped at Ron. "Miss Patil, take that ridiculous thing out of your hair."

The girl, scowling, removed a large, ornamental butterfly from the end of her plait.

"Miss Wilkinson, choose a single colour, please," McGonagall snapped at me, "preferably red."

Glaring at her, I changed the rest of my hair to scarlet. The twins grinned at me.

"Follow me, please," McGonagall said, "first years in front… no pushing…"

We filed down the front steps, and lined up in front of the school. They're eight rows, seven of them composed of students, and the eighth composed of the teachers and Filch. I stood in the sixth row, sandwiched between George and Angelina. It's a cold, clear evening, dusk had begun to fall, and a pale, transparent moon already shone over the tall trees of the Forbidden Forest. I checked my watch, it's almost six.

"I wonder how they're arriving," I said. Both George and Angelina shrugged.

We scanned the grounds excitedly, but nothing stirred; everything still and silent as it always is. I started to feel hungry, and my fingers started to feel cold. I knew wizards liked to show off when they got together, Midstars had hosted enough events during my time there for me to know.

"Aha! Unless I am very much mistaken, the delegation from Beauxbatons approaches!" called out Dumbledore from the back row.

"Where?" many students asked eagerly, all looking in different directions.

"_There_!" Kenneth Towler yelled, pointing over the Forest.

Something quite large hurtled across the navy blue sky, towards the castle, growing bigger the whole time.

"It's a dragon!" a first year girl shrieked.

"Don't be stupid… it's a flying house!" a male first year said.

His guess was closer… as the huge black shape skimmed the treetops of the Forest, and lights from the castle windows hit it, we saw a gigantic, powder-blue, horse-drawn carriage, the size of a large house, soaring towards us, pulled by a dozen winged horses, all palominos, and each the size of an elephant.

"They're Abraxans!" I whispered excitedly.

"Huh?"

"The horses, they're Abraxans," I explained.

The front three rows of students drew back as the carriage hurtled lower, coming in to land with tremendous speed –then, with an almighty crash– the Abraxans' hooves, larger than plates, hit the ground. A second later, the carriage landed too, bouncing upon its wheels, while the golden horses tossed their heads, and rolled large, fiery red eyes.

I just had time to see that the door of the carriage bore a coat of arms (two crossed, golden wands, each emitting three stars) before it opened.

A boy in pale blue robes jumped down from the carriage, bent forwards, fumbled with something on the carriage floor, and unfolded a set of golden steps. He sprang back respectfully. Next I saw a shining, high-heeled black shoe emerge from the carriage –a shoe the size of a child's sled– followed by the largest women I had ever seen in my life, and Mystic Haven really is a haven for all creatures magical, but never had I ever seen anyone like her. The size of the carriage, and the use of Abraxans were immediately explained. A few people gasped.

I had only seen one person as large as this woman, and that's Hagrid. There's probably like an inch difference in their height, if any. The woman now at the front of the steps, and looked around at the waiting, wide-eyed crowd. As she stepped into the light flooding from the Entrance Hall, she revealed a handsome, olive-skinned face, large, black eyes, and a rather beaky nose. Her hair was drawn into a shining knob at the base of her neck. She was dressed from head to foot in black satin, and many magnificent opals glimmered at her throat and fingers.

Dumbledore began to clap; us students, following his lead, broke into applause too, though many stood on tiptoe, the better to look at the woman.

Her face relaxed into a gracious smile, and she walked towards Dumbledore, extending a shimmering hand. Dumbledore, though tall himself, barely had to bend to kiss it.

"My dear Madame Maxime," he said. "Welcome to Hogwarts."

"Dumbly-dorr," Madame Maxime said, in a deep voice. "I 'ope I find you well?"

"On excellent form, I thank you," Dumbledore replied.

"My pupils," Madame Maxime said, waving a hand carelessly behind her.

I noticed a dozen or so boys and girls, all in their late teens, had emerged from their carriage, and now stood behind Madame Maxime. They were shivering, which was really unsurprising due to the fact their robes seemed to be made of fine silk, and none wore a cloak. A few of them had wrapped scarves and shawls around their heads. From what I could see (they all stood in Madame Maxime's shadow), they all gazed at Hogwarts with apprehensive looks on their faces.

"'As Karkaroff arrived yet," Madame Maxime asked.

"He should be here any moment," Dumbledore answered. "Would you like to wait here and greet him, or would you prefer to step inside, and warm up a trifle?"

"Warm up, I think," Madame Maxime said. "But ze 'orses–"

"Our Care of Magical Creatures will be delighted to take care of them," Dumbledore said, "the moment he has returned from dealing with a slight situation that has arisen with some of his other –er– charges."

"My steeds require –er– forceful handling," Madame Maxime said, looking doubtful any Care of Magical Creatures teacher at Hogwarts could be up to the job. "Zey are very strong…"

"I assure you that Hagrid will be well up to the job," Dumbledore said smiling.

"Very well," Madame Maxime said, bowing slightly, "will you inform zis 'Agrid zat ze 'orses drink only single-malt whisky?"

"It will be attended to," Dumbledore said, also bowing.

"Come," Madame Maxime said authoritatively to her students, and the Hogwarts crowd parted to let her and her students through.

We now stood waiting, shivering slightly, for the Durmstrang party to arrive. Most students gazed hopefully at the sky. For a few moments, the silence was only broken by the Abraxans snorting and stamping. Then suddenly–

"D'you hear something?" Angelina asked.

I listened; a loud, and strangely, eerie noise drifted out of the darkness. A muffled suction sound, like the sound a drain made when you pulled the plug out.

"The lake!" yelled Lee. "Look at the lake!"

From our position at the top of the lawns overlooking the grounds, we had a perfect view of the black surface. It was no longer smooth, something in the centre had disturbed the surface. Bubbles formed, and waves washed over the muddy banks. In the very middle of the lake, a whirlpool appeared.

What appeared to be a long, black pole began to rise slowly out of the middle of the whirlpool… and then rigging appeared. It's a mast.

Slowly, the ship began to rise out of the water, glistening in the moonlight. It had a strange skeletal look to it, as though it had been a wreck they found at the bottom of Davy Jones' Locker, and its many portholes with dim, misty lights shining through looked like ghostly eyes. Finally, with a great slopping noise, the ship surfaced entirely, and began gliding towards the shore. A few minutes later, we heard the splash of an anchor being thrown into the water, and the thud of a plank being lowered onto the bank.

People were disembarking; we could see their silhouettes passing the lights through the ship's portholes. They drew nearer, and the light of the Entrance Hall revealed their cloaks to be made of a shaggy, matted fur. But the man leading them towards the castle wore furs of a different kind, sleek and silver, like his hair.

"Dumbledore!" he called out heartily. "How are you, my dear fellow, how are you?"

"Blooming, thank you, Professor Karkaroff," Dumbledore replied heartily.

Karkaroff had a fruity, oily voice; when he stepped into the light, he revealed he's tall and thin like Dumbledore, but he wore his white hair short, and his goatee did not hide his weak chin. When he reached Dumbledore, he shook his hands with both his own.

"Dear old Hogwarts," Karkaroff said with a smile that did not reach his eyes, which remained cold and shrewd. "How good it is to be here, how good… Viktor, come along, into the warmth… you don't mind, Dumbledore? Viktor has a slight head cold…"

Karkaroff beckoned forward a student. Once he stood in the light, I heard five separate voices say, "It's _Krum_."

* * *

**Author's Note: Sorry it took a few weeks, school got in the way, next chapter should be up in a week. Going to see Twilight in 2 days! Whoo!**


	8. Ch 8: The Tournament Begins

**Disclaimer: Maybe when I'm long gone, someone in my family will own it, and that's the closest I'll ever come, but I'll be dead, so I won't know.**

* * *

**Chapter Eight  
****The Tournament Begins**

"_It must be contagious– looks like it's goin' around"  
_Rock This Country– Shania Twain

We filed up the stairs behind the Durmstrang party. Lee jumped up and down on the soles of his feet to get a good look at Krum. Several girls in my year frantically searched their pockets as they walked– "Oh, I don't believe it, I haven't got a single quill on me–" "D'you think he'd sign my hat in lipstick?"

_Really, people… just because he's famous_, I thought as we headed into the Great Hall. We took seats at the Gryffindor table. The Durmstrang students milled around the doorway, apparently unsure where to sit. The Beauxbatons party sat at the Ravenclaw table. They looked around the Great Hall with glum expressions on their faces. Three still clutched scarves and shawls around their heads. Why didn't they bring cloaks?

The Durmstrang lot had settled themselves at the Slytherin table. I saw Malfoy lean forward to talk to Krum. Well, at least they seem happy. They had pulled off their cloaks, revealing robes as red as blood. Many of them wore the same expression on their face as I had when I first arrived. Some looked at the enchanted ceiling with interest, and a couple of them had picked up the plates and goblets, examining them with interest.

At the staff table, Filch added chairs. He wore a mouldy old tail coat for the occasion. He added four chairs in total; two on either side of Dumbledore's.

"Who else is coming?" I asked. "Besides Karkaroff and Maxime?"

"Dunno," Fred and George answered.

"You two are very informed, aren't you?" I asked sarcastically.

"Yup," they answered. "Just not about technical details."

When all the students had entered the Hall, and sat at their tables, the staff entered. Last in line were Dumbledore, Professor Karkaroff, and Madame Maxime. When their Headmistress appeared, her students leapt out of their seats. A few Hogwarts students laughed, but the Beauxbatons party appeared quite unembarrassed, and did not sit until Madame Maxime had taken her seat. Dumbledore remained standing, and silence fell over the Great Hall.

"Good evening, ladies and gentlemen, ghosts and –most particularly– guests," Dumbledore said, beaming at the foreign students. "I have great pleasure in welcoming you all to Hogwarts. I hope and trust your stay here will be both comfortable and enjoyable."

One of the Beauxbatons girls still clutching a muffler around her head laughed scathingly.

"The Tournament will be officially opened at the end of the feast," Dumbledore said. "I now invite you all to eat, drink, and make yourselves at home!"

The dishes in front of us filled with food as usual, but I recognised some French dishes, and other foreign foods as well.

"What is that?" Fred asked, pointing at a dish. I peered inside to find what looked like liver.

"Foie gras," I answered quickly, without thinking.

"Come again?"

"Foie gras," I said slowly. "It's either goose or duck liver."

The twins stayed clear of it. I don't blame them. I've heard it's suppose to be quite good, but the whole idea of eating liver of all things, is a deciding factor in whether you're willing to try it.

About half an hour after the feast had started, two more people arrived. When the second course arrived, there were a lot of foreign puddings, and directly in front of me is–

"Crème brulée!" I said excitedly. "I haven't had this in years!"

I took a couple helpings of crème brulée, and was delighted to find chocolate mousse also.

Once the plates sparkled again, Dumbledore stood up. An amiable sort of tension had seeped into the Hall. I felt a thrill of excitement. Fred and George had leaned forward, and now stared at Dumbledore with great concentration.

"The moment has come," Dumbledore said, smiling at all of us. He smiles a lot. "The Triwizard Tournament is about to start. I would like to say a few words of explanation before we bring in the casket just to clarify the procedure we will be following this year. But firstly, let me introduce, for those who do not know them, Mr. Bartemius Crouch, Head of the Department of International Magical Co-operation" –a bit of applause here– "and Mr. Ludo Bagman, Head of the Department of Magical Games and Sports."

A much louder applause sounded for Bagman than Crouch, maybe because of his fame as a Beater, or simply because he looked much friendlier than Crouch. He acknowledged it with a cheery wave of his hand. Bartemius Crouch did not smile or wave.

"Mr. Bagman and Mr. Crouch have worked tirelessly over the last few months on the arrangements for the Triwizard Tournament," continued Dumbledore, "and they will be joining myself, Professor Karkaroff, and Madame Maxime on the panel which will judge the champions' efforts."

When Dumbledore mentioned 'champion', the attentiveness of us students increased.

Perhaps he noticed this, for he smiled as he said, "The casket, then, if you please, Mr. Filch."

Filch, who had been in a corner, unnoticed, now approached Dumbledore, carrying a huge wooden chest, covered with jewels. It looked extremely old. A murmur of excitement rose amongst us. A first year actually stood on his chair to the see the chest, but he's so tiny, that his head hardly rose over the students.

"The instructions for the tasks the champions will face this year have already been examined by Mr. Crouch and Mr. Bagman," Dumbledore said, as Filch carefully placed the casket in front of Dumbledore, "and they have made the necessary arrangements for each challenge. There will be three tasks, spaced throughout the school year, and they will test the champions in many different ways… their magical prowess– their daring– their powers of deduction– and, of course, their ability to cope with danger."

At this last word, the Hall became so silent it seemed no one breathed.

"As you know, three champions compete in the Tournament," calmly continued Dumbledore, "one from each participating schools. They will be marked on how well they perform each of the Tournament tasks and the champion with the highest total after task three will win the Triwizard Cup. The champions will be chosen by an impartial selector… the Goblet of Fire."

Dumbledore took out his wand, and tapped the casket three times. The lid slowly creaked open. Dumbledore reached inside it, and pulled a large, roughly fashioned, wooden cup. It would have been entirely unexceptional had it not been for the dancing, blue-white flames that filled it to the brim.

Dumbledore closed the casket and placed the Goblet carefully on top it would be visible to everyone in this room.

"Anybody wishing to submit themselves as champion must write their name and school clearly upon a slip of parchment, and drop it into the Goblet," Dumbledore said. "Aspiring champions have twenty-four hours in which to put their names forward. Tomorrow night, Hallowe'en, the Goblet will return the names of the three it has judged most worthy to represent their schools. The Goblet will be placed in the Entrance Hall tonight, where it will be freely accessible to all those wishing to compete.

"To ensure that no underage student yields to temptation," continued Dumbledore, "I will be drawing an Age Line around the Goblet of Fire once it has been in the Entrance Hall. Nobody under the age of seventeen will be able to cross this line.

"Finally, I wish to impress upon any of you wishing to compete that this Tournament is not to be entered into lightly. Once a champion has been selected by the Goblet of Fire, he or she is obliged to see the Tournament through to the end. The placing of your name in the Goblet constitutes a binding, magical contract. There can be no change of heart once you have become a champion. Please be very sure, therefore, that you are whole-heartedly prepared to play, before you drop your name into the Goblet. Now, I think it is time for bed. Goodnight to you all."

"An Age Line!" Fred exclaimed, his eyes glinting, as we made our way across the Hall into the Entrance Hall. "Well, that should be fooled by an Ageing Potion, shouldn't it? And once your name's in that Goblet, you're laughing– it can't tell whether you're seventeen or not!"

"But I don't think anyone under seventeen will stand a chance," Hermione Granger said, "we just haven't learned enough…"

"Never mind that," I said impatiently, "an _Ageing Potion_ won't fool that Line, not if it's been drawn by Dumbledore."

"Speak for yourself," George said shortly. "You'll try and get in, won't you, Harry?"

"Where is he?" Ron Weasley asked, not paying any attention to the conversation. "Dumbledore didn't say where the Durmstrang people are sleeping, did he?"

His question was answered almost instantly; we were level with the Slytherin table now, and Karkaroff had just gathered his students.

"Back to the ship, then," he said. "Viktor, how are you feeling? Did you eat enough? Should I send for some mulled wine from the kitchens?"

Krum shook his head as he pulled his furs back on.

"Professor, _I_ vood like some vine," one of the other Durmstrang boys said hopefully.

"I wasn't offering it to _you_, Poliakoff," Karkaroff snapped, his paternal air vanishing it instantly. "I notice you have dribbled food all down the front of your robes again, disgusting boy–"

We scuttled past him and the Durmstrang lot, leaving Potter, Ron, and Granger behind.

"D'you really an Ageing Potion won't work, Katharina?" George asked.

I nodded. "It's too… _simple_," I said.

"Which is why it's so brilliant," George said.

"Just because Dumbledore's mad and a genius, doesn't make everyone else out of their minds a genius too," I said, picking up my pace, and leaving them there.

* * *

"I'm telling you it's not going to work." That's how my morning began– literally chasing three idiots out of Gryffindor Tower. "Dumbledore would've thought of this."

"You've only been here for two months, what do you know about Dumbledore?" Lee asked.

"My mother talked of him a lot, mostly when she talked of Hogwarts," I said. "If this Tournament's dangerous, then I'm sure Dumbledore would want to prevent underage students from playing, and I'm sure he would've thought of students concocting Ageing Potions."

I could see my logic had stumped them.

"For someone very pretty, you're awfully smart," Lee said.

"Thank you… I think," I said, as we started down the staircase.

They laughed, and quickened their pace as we reached the marble staircase, I jogged to keep up. All three looked very excited. They hurried down the stairs, towards the Goblet of Fire, laughing the whole time.

"I'm telling you, an Ageing Potion isn't going to work!" I called after them, slowing down, and clinging to the railing to keep my balance. I could be very clumsy. I let go of the railing with relief as I reached the last step.

The Goblet of Fire stood in the middle of the room with people gathered around it, watching it. A golden line traced on the floor formed a circle ten feet in width around the stool.

"The Ageing Potion, dungbrains," Fred said.

"One drop each," George said, rubbing his hands together. "We only need to be a few months older."

"We're going to split the thousand galleons between the three of us if one of us wins," Lee said, grinning.

"I'm not sure this is going to work, you know," Granger said warningly. "I'm sure Dumbledore will have thought of this."

The three of them ignored her. "Are you sure you don't want to take the Ageing Potion, Katharina?" George asked me.

"I don't need an Ageing Potion to age myself," I said.

"Ready?" Fred asked the other two, shaking with excitement. "C'mon, then –I'll go first–"

I watched as Fred took a piece of parchment out of his pocket, with the words 'Fred Weasley- Hogwarts' written on it. Fred walked right to the tip of the line, and rocked on the very edge. With the eyes of everyone in the Entrance Hall upon him, he took a deep breath, and stepped over the line.

It looked as though it had worked –George clearly thought so too, because he let out a yell of triumph, and leapt after Fred– but next moment, there was a sizzling sound, and both twins were tossed from the circle. They landed, painfully, ten feet away on the stone floor, and to add insult to injury, there was a loud popping sound, and both twins now had identical, long white beards.

The Entrance Hall filled with laughter. Fred and George even joined in once they had got to their feet, and took a good look at each other's beards.

"I did warn you," a deep, amused voice said. We all turned to see Dumbledore coming out of the Great Hall. He examined Fred and George, his eyes twinkling. "I suggest you both go up to Madam Pomfrey. She is already tending to Miss Fawcett, of Ravenclaw, and Mr. Summers, of Hufflepuff, both of whom decided to age themselves up a little, too. Though I must say, neither of their beards is anything like as fine as yours.

"Miss Wilkinson, would you like to try crossing the Line by ageing yourself with your Metamorphosing?"

Flustered, I nodded. I changed my appearance to that of an older woman, even greying my hair. Satisfied, I crossed the Line. Next thing I knew, I flew through the air, but unlike Fred and George, I landed on my feet. When I tried to change back to normal, I found I already had.

"Interesting," Dumbledore said. "Thank you, Miss Wilkinson."

Laughing, Lee and I accompanied Fred and George to the hospital wing.

"Go ahead, say it," George said, sounding dejected.

"Say what?" I asked.

"I told you so," George answered.

"I can't say it," I said.

"Why not?" Fred asked.

"I dunno, it just doesn't seem right," I replied with a shrug. We lapsed into silence, with Lee still chuckling. Unable to contain it anymore, I blurted out smugly, "I told you so, I told you so."

We had reached the hospital wing. Two other students with shrinking beards were sitting on two separate beds. Madam Pomfrey looked up as we entered.

"Two more?" she asked. We all nodded. "Names?

"Fred and George Weasley," I answered, because the twins and Lee were still laughing.

"I should've known," Madam Pomfrey said grimly. She turned to the twins. "Sit."

They both sat on a bed, and Madam Pomfrey disappeared into her office. She returned a few minutes later with two goblets. She handed them to Fred and George. They each drained their goblets.

"How long 'til the beards are gone?" I asked.

"About five minutes," Madam Pomfrey answered before returning to her other patients who are now completely beardless.

"Maybe you'll listen next time, eh?" I said. "Then you won't have beards prematurely."

"C'mon, Kat, you gotta admit, it was pretty funny," Lee said.

"Yeah, it was rather amusing, wasn't it?" I said with a laugh. Lee laughed too.

"Ah, shut up, the pair of you," Fred said. "Just 'cause it had the opposite effect on _you_."

"Because when I crossed the Line, I was already old," I explained, "but it must've known it was just a… illusion, if you will, and saw through it."

Five minutes later, we left the hospital wing, with Fred and George completely beardless.

"So, what do we do until the feast tonight?" I asked.

"I dunno, go back up to the common room, I s'pose," Fred said. "Who's up for a game of Exploding Snap?"

The rest of us readily agreed. We went back to Gryffindor Tower. Between three decks, we managed to complete one, and began to play. We only took a break for lunch, and afterwards began a game of wizard's chess. I beat each of them soundly. I tried not to be too smug about that.

As the time for the feast to begin drew nearer, the atmosphere in the common room changed. It was excited, yet impatient. After our last game of chess (where I faced all three and beat them again), we headed down to the Great Hall. I nearly had a heart attack when we walked in. Live bats fluttered around the ceiling, while hundreds of carved pumpkins sat in every corner. Everyone at Midstars would have died if they saw these decorations. They'd've run screaming. Yes, they are witches and wizards, but _rich_ witches and wizards who would never understand the concept of personality. The only other person at Midstars who would have loved this, is Phil. Why did my mother have to send me to Midstars? Why? My school years have been deprived.

We sat down at the table, and didn't say too much, too excited to stay on a topic without talking about the Tournament. I noticed the Goblet of Fire now sat in front of Dumbledore's seat.

"Hope it's Angelina," Fred said as his brother, Harry, and Hermione sat down.

"So do I!" Hermione said breathlessly. "Well, we'll soon know!"

Though it was the second feast in two days, I couldn't help but be impressed. At Midstars, their idea of a Hallowe'en treat was a dance. More socialization with people I hate. What could be better?

There was lots of extravagantly prepared food, but everyone in the Hall was extremely impatient, going by the constantly craning necks, the impatient looks on everybody's face, and the standing-up whether to see if Dumbledore had finished yet. Everyone simply wanted the feast to finish, and see who would be selected as champions.

After what seemed an eternity, the golden plates returned to sparkling clean. The noise level began to rise throughout the Hall, but immediately quietened once Dumbledore rose to his feet. On either side, Professor Karkaroff and Madame Maxime wore the same expressions as the students. Bagman beamed and winked at various and students. Crouch, however, looked merely bored.

"Well, the Goblet is almost ready to make its decision," Dumbledore said. "I estimate that it requires one more minute. Now, when the champions' names are called, I would ask them please to come up to the top of the Hall, walk along the staff table, and go on through into the next chamber–" he pointed to a door behind the staff table, "–where they will be receiving their first instructions."

He took out his wand, and with a sweeping wave all the lights except for those in the jack-o'-lanterns were extinguished, plunging the Hall into semi-darkness. The Goblet of Fire shone more brightly than anything in the Hall, the sparkling bright, bluish-whiteness of the flames almost painful to the eyes. Everyone watched, waiting… some checking their watches…

"Any second," Lee whispered.

The flames of the Goblet suddenly turned red. Sparks began to fly. A moment later, a tongue of flame shot into the air, a charred piece of parchment wavered from it– the whole room gasped.

Dumbledore caught it, and held it at arm's length, so he could read it by the light of the Goblet, in which the flames had return to blue-white.

"The champion for Durmstrang," he read in a strong voice, "will be Viktor Krum."

"No surprises there!" Ron yelled, as a storm of applause and cheering filled the Hall. Krum rose from the Slytherin, slouched towards Dumbledore, he turned right, walking along the staff table, and disappeared into the next chamber.

"Bravo, Viktor!" Karkaroff thundered loud enough for everyone to hear him over the applause. "Knew you had it in you!"

The clapping and chatting died down once more. Everyone's attention focused upon the Goblet, which seconds later turned red again. A second piece of parchment flew out, propelled by the flames.

"The champion for Beauxbatons," said Dumbledore, "is Fleur Delacour!"

Though the applause and cheering isn't nearly as loud as for Viktor Krum, Fleur Delacour still got her fair share. Two of the Beauxbatons girls had burst into tears, sobbing with their heads on their arms.

When Fleur Delacour, too, had disappeared into the chamber, silence fell for the third and last time. The silence had seemed to have solidified with excitement. The Hogwarts champion is next…

The Goblet of Fire turned red for the final time; sparks springing out of it; a tongue of flame shot into the air, and from its tip, Dumbledore caught the third piece of parchment.

"The Hogwarts champion," he called, "is Cedric Diggory!"

I almost went deaf. Every Hufflepuff –and I mean, _every_ Hufflepuff– had gotten to his or her feet, screaming and stamping as, Cedric made his way past them, grinning broadly. The applause continued even after Cedric had vanished from the Hall. The applause and cheering went on for so long, that, some time had passed before Dumbledore could make himself heard.

"Excellent!" Dumbledore called happily, as finally the commotion died down. "Well, we now have our three champions. I am sure I can count upon all of you, including the remaining students from Beauxbatons and Durmstrang, to give your champions every ounce of support you can muster. By cheering your champion on, you will contribute in a very real–"

Dumbledore suddenly stopped speaking, and it was obvious what distracted him.

The Goblet of Fire's flames had turned red once again. Sparks flew from it. A long flame shot from it, into the air, and on top of it, another piece of parchment rested.

Automatically, it seemed, Dumbledore seized the parchment. He held it out, and stared at the name it bore. There was a long pause, in which Dumbledore stared at the parchment, and the entirety of the Hall stared at him. And then Dumbledore cleared his throat, and read out–

"_Harry Potter_."

Every head in the Hall turned to face Harry. No one applauded, not a single soul. Every Gryffindor's mouth was wide open in shock. Harry himself looked as shocked as the rest of us. How the hell did he get chosen?

"Harry Potter!" Dumbledore called again. "Harry! Up here, if you please!"

Hermione gave him a slight push, and Harry stumbled towards the staff table. Once he reached Dumbledore, he headed into the door, and vanished.

A few seconds later, Bagman disappeared into the chamber behind Harry. The chatter in the Hall increased, every conversation about how Harry done it. A minute or two later, Dumbledore, McGonagall, Snape, Crouch, Professor Karkaroff, and Madame Maxime followed Bagman, after bickering at the table about it.

The students remained in their seats, all of us unsure what to do. The conversation around me revolved around a party they (the twins, who else?) were going to throw to celebrate Harry's 'victory' if he's allowed to enter the Tournament. I shook my head. Every student thought Harry had entered himself. Had they not seen his face? They probably had, but assumed the shock had to do with his plan actually working. Ten minutes later, tiny Professor Flitwick stood on his chair.  
"Attention, please!" Flitwick called. "If you could please return to your dormitories, I think that would be best. And could our guests return to your carriage and ship, please. Thank you."

He sat down again. The usual scraping and groaning of benches followed. We filed out of the Hall, and up the marble staircase. While we were heading up to the Tower, I noticed a wizened old witch following us.

"Gryffindors?" she asked. Those nearest nodded. "I have some good news for you." We all stopped and waited. "Harry Potter is allowed to enter. No punishment or anything of the sort. And he is exempt from any end-of-year exams."

Fred and George turned around.

"Where're you going?" I asked.

"To get food," they answered. I shook my head, and continued going up with the rest of the Gryffindors.

I reached the Fat Lady first.

"Password?"

"Balderdash," I replied. She swung forwards. I climbed through, and went to the stairs leading to the girls' dormitories.

"Where're you going, Kat?" Trisha called.

"To bed," I answered.

"Aren't you going to celebrate with us?" she asked, confused.

"What's to celebrate, we're sending a kid to his death," I said, running up the stairs.

When I entered the dorm, I went to my bed, put on my pyjamas, and climbed into bed. Anya joined me. Five minutes later, I heard Harry come into the common room. Half an hour later, I heard him shout he's going to bed. _Well, it's definitely going to be an interesting year_, I thought sleepily.


	9. Ch 9: Just Thinking

**Author's Note: Sorry about the long wait, it's been four months exactly. School and work kept me from writing mostly. That, and I was trying to write chapter 10 before I posted this one, but I'm almost done, so I figured I'll post this a bit early. It's a really short chapter, not even 1000 words, sorry. The wait won't be so long next time, I have chapters 11 and 12 written, and most of thirteen. Enough with my rambling, and as one of my favourite characters would say, **_**Allons-y**_**!**

**Disclaimer: When pigs fly and Hell freezes over.**

* * *

**Chapter Nine  
****Just Thinking**

"_But you don't have a clue  
You don't know what you do to me_"  
Stop This Song (Love Sick Melody)– Paramore

Only the Gryffindors supported Harry Potter as a school champion. But almost all thought he had submitted his own name. I don't think so. He'd been too shocked, but anyway…

Neither George nor I have mentioned that particular Defence Against the Dark Arts class, our classmates on the other hand, mention it every time they see one of us, especially if we're walking together.

I still haven't come to terms with everything I felt during those few seconds. Bliss, lust, pure happiness, and most importantly, safe. Truly safe. It almost killed me to push him away. It takes a hell of a lot of self-control not to kiss him senseless every time I come within two feet of him.

Ugh... I want a boyfriend, but not for the sake of having a boyfriend. I mean, that's just shallow. I want someone who accepts me for who I am. But then again, I'm not exactly open either, only with the Weasley twins, well, George in particular. I mean, what did I expect after escaping hell for the first time in years? I don't want my heart torn out. I know it's a risk we must all take, but me? As much as I hate to admit it, I'm fragile. I don't really want to see what heartbreak could potentially to do to me.

Another insecurity of mine is, who would want someone like me? Abused? In pieces? Broken? I haven't been truly happy in four years. Haven't really laughed in four years. Merlin, haven't really even _smiled_ in four years. What kind of girlfriend will I be?

But I really, _really_ like George. I'm just so messed up in the head, and insecure, that I'm afraid. Afraid to take risks. Afraid to have my heart torn out. Afraid of love. Afraid _to_ love. But my heart went against me. I don't think George would ever hurt me. It's just me. I'm hurting myself. Just myself.

I will always be alone.

Forever.

* * *

_I'm in a park, walking on stones in a stream, the cold water washing over my feet. My hair is blonde, and pulled back into a ponytail. I'm wearing a crimson red dress._

_"You've finally made it to Hogwarts, baby girl," a voice on my right said. I looked; on the bank stood a woman with long, blonde hair, and sparkling blue eyes. _

_"Mum?" I asked in a whisper. Grinning, she nodded. I jumped onto the bank, and gave her a hug._

_"I've missed you so much, Mum," I said, the tears flowing. _

_"I know, baby, I know," she said, hugging me close. She drew back and looked at me. "Look at you. Look at all the awful things I let happen to you."_

_I looked and saw all the scars on my body. "Mum, it–"_

_"Don't you dare say it wasn't my fault, Katharina," she said sternly. "It was. I was supposed to take care of you. I ran away from hell, and created one for you. I never forgave myself. Look at what it's done to you. You're so insecure, you can't see what's staring you in the face. You've given up on love. You only see the bad. Never the good. I failed as your mother."_

_"Mum, don't say that. You didn't fail. You just didn't see it until it was too late. You came to Canada to make sure I had a good life, and I do, Mum. I'm where I'm supposed to be, aren't I? I'm back home. Where I belong."_

_"That doesn't make it right," she said. "What about the scar on your back, Kat? Or the time he almost raped you?"_

_"You knew?" I asked, shocked._

_"Of course," she replied. "I should've taken you and Vanessa and fled back to England. But he sent you here instead."_

_"Why?" I asked. "Mum, that's not like him."_

_"I know, baby girl, I know," she said. "He's planning something."_

The scenery changed. I'm in the hospital wing.

_I laid on a bed, fast asleep. In the bed next to mine, is another sleeping figure. Madam Pomfrey and Professor Dumbledore stood at the foot of my bed. _

_"What is Mr. Weasley doing here?" Dumbledore asked, looking at the sleeping figure, who I've realised is George._

_"Refused to leave her. He's very worried about her," Madam Pomfrey replied._

_"Ah," Dumbledore said. "You said something about extensive injuries?"_

_"Yes, Miss Wilkinson has been subjected to the Cruciatus Curse. It's not life-threatening, but it leaves a mark. She's been subjected to Dark Magic. There's a scar on her back from her shoulder to her hip. This poor girl's been abused. And Albus, she's been raped."_

I woke with a start. I shook all over. I couldn't remember what I'd dreamt, but knew it had been my idea of a nightmare. I laid back down, and fell into a fitful sleep.

* * *

My lessons became more difficult, and I began to do homework in free periods (though I still used the morning one on Wednesday to sleep in). The whole school talked of what the first task will be. What the champions will face, and whether or not Harry Potter will die. That's a favourite topic of the Slytherins. The whole of Hufflepuff house ignored the whole of Gryffindor house (except McGonagall), and the Slytherins had created badges that read– _Support CEDRIC DIGGORY– the REAL Hogwarts Champion!_, and with a touch they read– _POTTER STINKS_. Not one Gryffindor had accepted these badges, though the rest of the school except for a few had. Cedric Diggory is amongst the few. He still talked to the Gryffindors, and refused to wear a badge.

The first Hogsmeade trip of the year is approaching. I can't wait. One of the things I've been looking forward to. I miss not being able to drink Butterbeer everyday, and the sweetshop is supposed to be something. I'm going alone. Which is fine with me. I'm used to being alone.

* * *

On the morning of the Hogsmeade trip, I woke bright and early. I grabbed my cloak, and scarf, and went to the Great Hall for breakfast. I ate quickly, and joined the third years and above in the Entrance Hall, lined up, and walked by Filch as he checked our names off. A sense of excitement entered me, and it was all I could do not to run/skip there.

Hogsmeade reminded me of a Christmas card, only, without the snow. I headed to Honeydukes first. I knew the moment I stepped in here that this shop will always be my favourite. It had every sweet known to wizarding kind. Chocolate Frogs, Cauldron Cakes, Pumpkin Pasties, Sugar Quills, chocolate, I think I'm in heaven. I bought as much as I could afford at the moment, and ran out before I changed my mind. I looked around, and went into all the shops. I even checked out the Shrieking Shack. After a little while, the cold got to me, and I headed to the Three Broomsticks. Once inside, I got myself a tankard of Butterbeer. I found myself a tankard of Butterbeer, and sat by myself, thinking.

"Anyone sitting here?" a voice interrupted. I looked up, and saw Lee Jordan, the Weasley twins, and their brother, Ron.

"Does it look like anyone else is sitting here?" I asked, taking another sip.

"Nope. Mind if we sit?" Fred asked.

"Go ahead," I said, removing a few bags off a stool.

"What's all that?" George asked.

"Candy," I replied happily. Well, now I've achieved something I haven't been in four years: hyper.

"That's all candy?" George repeated.

I nodded. "Yup."

"Just for you?"

I nodded again. "Mhm."

The twins shook their heads at me, and sat down as did Lee. Ron remained standing, however, looking unsure.

"I'm Katharina," I said. "Metamorphmagus. I don't bite."

He sat. "What's a Metamorphmagus?"

"I can change my appearance at will," I explained.

"So, you're a sixth year as well?" Ron asked.

"Yeah. I transferred here from Canada, actually," I said, finishing my Butterbeer. I pulled out a Chocolate Frog. Oh, look, Morgana, again.

"Really?" Ron said, sounding surprised. "You sound like you've lived in England your whole life."

"My mum's English," I explained. "Grew up hearing an English accent."

"So, what else do you have planned today?" George asked.

"I have to buy a present for my stepsister," I said. "But that's it. I have no idea what to get her, and I hate shopping. Maybe some of Honeydukes' best chocolate."

"The solution to everything," Fred said sarcastically. "Chocolate."

"Hey, chocolate is good," I said. Yup, definitely hyper. I swallowed the rest of my chocolate. "Okay, well, maybe chocolate isn't the greatest Christmas present. Maybe a gold necklace or something. Then I gotta figure out what I'm getting the two of you…"

"You're getting _us_ Christmas presents?" George asked, indicating himself and Fred.

I shrugged, "You're my friends. Don't worry about getting me a Christmas present, though. But I'd better go. Especially if I have to buy three undecided Christmas presents before it's time to go back to school. I'll see you later."

I grabbed my bags, and exited the pub. I went to the jeweller's I'd seen earlier, and found the perfect gold necklace. The charm for it read: 'Number One Sister', and the chain for it, is extremely small and intricate. The jeweller assured me that the necklace will never break, nor will it ever tangle, like a Muggle necklace would. I did go back to Honeydukes, and bought her a bar of Honeydukes' Best Chocolate. For Fred and George, I went to the only logical place in Hogsmeade: Zonko's. I asked the owner if he knew Fred and George, and he told me he did. He showed me their favourite products, and I had loads of fun picking their gifts. For the record I cannot be held responsible for any prank they commit after Christmas. Satisfied, I went back up to the school for dinner. Most people were pink in the face from the cold, but chattering happily. I'm seriously thinking my school years have been deprived. No, really.

* * *

I really love Hogwarts. But when I have my hair blonde, teachers who have been here for a long time, like McGonagall or Flitwick, look at me with sad eyes. I automatically change it, because they've called me Francesca by accident. It doesn't bother me, but I think it bothers them. The Slytherins got a kick out of it, until my temper snapped, and I transfigured them into rocks. I didn't get detention, 'cause when McGonagall walked by, they blended in with the floor. They didn't even rat me out.

I am so sick of hearing about the Triwizard Tournament, well, more specifically, the champions themselves. The same girls I saw who wanted Krum's autograph were begging Cedric for his at lunch one day. Fleur Delacour has half the male population of Hogwarts trailing after her. Krum has his own fan club, who does not know the meaning of quiet. So, when Krum enters the library, I leave. I told him it's nothing personal, I just can't listen to his fan club. And Harry has three-quarters of Hogwarts hating him. Oh, and everyone still speculates on how he entered the Tournament. Give it a rest already. But I join in with everyone else trying to guess what the first task is. I don't think we'll ever guess. Betting pools have started on the outcome of the Tournament. I bet a Galleon on a Hogwarts victory. Some have betted on Durmstrang, while none have betted on Beauxbatons, hardly surprising.

I have become good friends with Trisha, and the Weasley twins. Tori continues to hate me, because I've achieved something she has not, but she seems satisfied that I 'don't' feel the same. I asked Vanessa for advice, and apparently, I have to learn to trust myself, and take risks. I hate it when she's right. And being stubborn as hell, I've refused to take her advice. She sent me a letter a week later, with a single sentence written, 'You're being stubborn, aren't you, Kat?'

I feel like Buttercup, except I know my 'Westley' fancies me. Hmm… bad analogy. What else? Definitely not Romeo and Juliet. I dunno… I'll think of it later, when it's no longer relevant.

* * *

At the beginning of my Wednesday Muggle Studies class, we received our assignment for our unit on Muggle pop culture. We have to pick three songs, present them anyway you choose, an essay on an important Muggle event, a timeline covering nineteen-ninety to nineteen-ninety-four, and we will still have a test. I recognised almost every song on this list, thanks to Vanessa's friend, Kylie. Here's the list:

**Pick three of the following**

What Made You Say That- Shania Twain  
Livin' On The Edge- Aerosmith  
Hey Jude- The Beatles  
When I'm Sixty-Four- The Beatles  
Breakfast At Tiffany's- Deep Blue Something  
Knockin' On Heaven's Door- Guns N Roses  
Don't Let The Sun Go Down On Me- Elton John  
Wanted Dead or Alive- Bon Jovi  
Welcome to the Jungle- Guns N Roses  
The Tide is High- Blondie  
Crazy Little Thing Called Love- Queen  
Run, Run, Away- Slade  
Goodbye Yellow Brick Road- Elton John  
Let It Be- The Beatles  
Live and Let Die- Paul McCartney

I immediately picked out my three, knowing it'd be first come, first serve. I raised my hand into the air. Professor Burbage seemed slightly bemused.

"Yes, Katharina?" she said.

"I've already picked out my three," I answered. She seemed shocked.

"Are you sure you don't want to more time to consider…" she trailed off, because I shook my head.

"I've heard all these songs at least once. My stepsister's friend is a Muggle-born, and her parents love music, so I already know what songs I'd like to do."

"Very well. What songs?" she asked, pulling out parchment to record.

"What Made You Say That, Hey Jude, and When I'm Sixty-Four," I answered promptly.

"Do you already know how you're going to present them?"

"Yeah, singing," I replied.

"Very well," she said. She walked over with a sheaf of parchment, and began sorting through to find my choices.

"Kat," Trish said, looking at me. "I'm stumped. I don't know what I wanna pick, could you sing the first verse or chorus, please?"

I sighed; I hated singing a cappella. "All right, which song?"

"The Tide Is High," she answered.

"_The tide is high, but I'm holdin' on  
I'm gonna be your number one  
__I'm not the kind of girl  
__Who gives up just like that_."

"Thank you, Kat," Trisha said.

"No problem, Trish," I said, finding everyone staring at me. "Who else?"

"Crazy Little Thing Called Love?" Ella Turner of Hufflepuff asked.

"_This thing called love, I can't handle it  
__This thing called love, I must get round to it  
__I ain't ready, crazy little thing called love._"

Stupid, stupid song, and how it seems to fit me. Ella opened her mouth to request another, but Professor Burbage decided to speak.

"Professor Dumbledore will be coming in to see how you present the songs, because he loves music, and any students who have a spare will be allowed in to be a part of the audience. This will be due on the last day of term before the holidays."

The bell rang, and we were dismissed. I used my spare to quickly compose a letter to Vanessa, and asked if she could get me sheet music for the songs I had chosen from Kylie. This would be the easiest assignment ever.

* * *

**Author's Note: I don't really like how this chapter turned out, but oh, well. I even rewrote parts of it. Next chapter will be the first task, and all four dragons.**


	10. Ch 10: Red, Green, Black, and Blue

**Disclaimer: If I do own it, why am I working at a restaurant for minimum wage?**

* * *

**Chapter Ten  
****Red, Green, Black, and Blue**

"_Tell me tell me do you feel the pressure now?_"  
Born For This- Paramore

Today is the twenty-fourth of November, nineteen-ninety-four, and at one o'clock this afternoon, the first task of the Triwizard Tournament begins. The entire school buzzed with anticipation, unless you're Harry Potter, or Cedric Diggory, then, you paled by the hour.

It's extremely difficult to concentrate on your lessons, if all your classmates talk of nothing but the first task. The Slytherins hypothesised how Harry's going to die, and how long into the first task it'll take. I guess you could call it generosity if they think he'll make it to half an hour in. But they're also hoping he dies horrifically.

At lunch, all of the Gryffindors watched as McGonagall came over to our table. She walked over to Harry, and probably told him it's time for the first task, because they both left the Great Hall. The other champions had already left. We continued to eat, pretending nothing had happened, but you could feel the excitement and anticipation thickening in the atmosphere. About a half an hour later, Dumbledore stood up.

"I ask you now to follow Hagrid and make your way down to the grounds for the first task," Dumbledore said.

The usual banging and scraping ensued. The entire school filed out of the Great Hall excitedly chatting about what the first task would be. Hagrid led us past a tent to an enclosure, and we filed in the stands. We sat down about halfway up, and I realised the stands stood around an enclosure. And inside the enclosure is a silvery-blue dragon with long, pointed horns. Oh, well, if that's it.

"_Dragons_?" I said hoarsely. "They're asking teenagers to get past dragons?"

"It could be worse," Fred said.

"'It could be worse'?" I asked. "Aren't you glad it's not you facing the Swedish Short-Snout?"

"Just a little," Fred admitted.

"'Just a little'? They could die today," I answered.

"You worry too much, Kat," Lee said. "Dumbledore won't let anyone die."

"What's Dumbledore going to do?" I asked, though I don't doubt Dumbledore's power. "The Swedish Short-Snout's flame is so hot that it can reduce bone to ash like that." I snapped my fingers for emphasis.

A whistle sounded somewhere. Almost as soon as Cedric walked onto the field, I flinched in fear. As he darted forward, the Short-Snout emitted a brilliant blue jet of flame, threatening to engulf him, and reduce him to ash. He skidded to a halt, and dove out of the way, inches away from the fiery stream. The crowd cheered madly, relishing this form of deadly entertainment, not seeming to realise that he narrowly dodged death.

"Oooh, narrow miss there, very narrow…" Bagman boomed, he seemed to be enjoying this too much for my tastes. My nails dug deeply into my seat, praying Cedric –or any of the other champions for that matter– don't die today. I bit my tongue as Cedric barely missed another stream of flame.

"He's taking risks, this one!"

I grounded my teeth in annoyance as cheers filled the stadium. I mean, _HELLO_?! He isn't exactly doing so hot at the moment. Wait. Hot is the last thing he wants to be right now. Hot equalled dead. He clumsily dodged another swipe as he stood up. Even from where I sat, I could see the beads of sweat trickling down his face.

"_Shit_," George cursed.

"What?" I said in alarm, following his gaze.

"Diggory's on fire!" I stared in shock to realise George is right. Cedric's robes are on fire, but the worst part is he hadn't noticed. I cursed under my breath as the little spark spread along his sleeve; I guess with a giant, horned dragon staring you in the face, being on fire isn't exactly noticeable.

With another flick of his wand, a rock flew past the dragon, but she wasn't even fazed. She issued another blast of flame, setting the ground ablaze. His eyes narrowed as he prepared to go careening through the conflagration. Then something struck him, he finally clued into his smouldering robe. Unfortunately, this isn't exactly the place for stop, drop, and roll.

He pointed his wand at his arm, and muttered something under his breath, and to my relief, the flamed was extinguished. Cedric kept his wand out, circling the peevish silvery-blue dragon. My mouth dropped as a flash of black fur emerged on to the enclosure.

"No way…" I murmured.

"Is that a dog?" Lee asked in sceptical amazement. "It looks like a Labrador."

"Actually…" I said, mesmerized by the barking figure, drawing the malignant beast towards it, "that is a rock."

"A _rock_?" George exclaimed. Yeah, no kidding, a frigging rock.

"Do you ever pay attention in Transfiguration?" I mused, rolling my eyes.

Lee cut in before George could respond. "Not while you're there, Kat."

George turned tomato red, and I opened my mouth to respond, but failed miserably. Instead, I turned my attention back on Cedric.

He made a mad dash for the egg, while the dragon's attention stayed fixed on the lab. The Short-Snout seemed to realise Cedric's plan, and let loose a jet of hot flame roasting the dog-rock, along with a bit of Cedric's face, but that no longer mattered. Cedric had grabbed his golden egg.

"_Clever _move– pity it didn't work!"

Fifteen minutes later, a roar of applause and cheers filled the stadium, nearly overbearing the excited cries issued from Bagman. Fred, George, and Lee are on their feet, waving their arms frantically. I watched, my heart still thudding, as they led Cedric off the field to be treated for his burns.

A buzz of excited murmurs filled the stadium as a dragon the colour of lush grass replaced the silver-blue one. A Welsh Green. I stared in wonder, contemplating the possibility of Harry facing this one. It would be easier (as easy as getting past a _dragon_ can be, anyway) than the Swedish Short-Snout. The mottled brown flecked eggs were carefully arranged around the prized golden one.

"One down, three to go!" Bagman yelled. "Miss Delacour, if you please."

A whistle sounded, and Fleur Delacour emerged. She looked absolutely terrified, not exactly the best demeanour to come into this ring with, even though I could understand her sentiment. The Welsh Green eyed her tentatively, trying to discover what her intent is. She made up her mind, and started out with a sprint; the dragon emitted an enraged, yet enchantingly musical roar.

Its massive neck arched as it emitted an extremely thin jet of flame. Fleur stumbled to the ground, skidding onto a patch of singed grass, staining her clothes black with soot. I almost snorted, what would've possessed her to wear a _skirt_ for a Triwizard task? Fleur tried to make a run for it, but suddenly the dragon's head blocked her path.

"Oh, I'm not sure that was wise!" Bagman shouted gleefully, as Fleur skidded to a halt.

When the dragon calmed a bit, Fleur raised her wand, and the dragon went into a bit of a sleep-like trance.

"Oh... nearly! Careful now..." Bagman boomed. Just then, the dragon snored, and a thin jet of flame shot out, lighting Fleur's skirt on fire. Breaking her concentration from the spell, she quickly put out the flame.

"Good Lord, I thought she'd had it then!"

Ten minutes more of running and dodging, Fleur succeeded. The stadium burst into applause. We patiently waited as the judges gave out their marks, I added it up in my head, thirty-five points. Not bad; certainly not great, but not too bad.

I watched as vivid crimson eggs flecked with gold replaced the mottled green ones. Ah, so a Chinese Fireball is next, is it? Sure enough, seconds later, a crimson dragon lined with golden spikes entered the stadium. Its squished face looked around menacingly, its protuberant eyes focusing on the tiniest details.

With the next whistle, the bulky figure of Krum darted into the stadium. He isn't wasting any time. The Fireball, completely caught off guard, emitted a massive mushroom-shaped cloud. Krum nimbly got out of the way. I have to admit, he is very agile, although I guess he'd have to be, if he is a Seeker for Bulgaria.

His wand at the ready, and as soon as the four-tonne dragon thrashed her long tail in the wrong direction, Krum pounced. "_CONJUNCTIVUS_!" he bellowed, and light flashed from his wand straight into the eyes of the Fireball. It roared in enraged pain as it staggered back, crushing its own eggs. I flinched. That was essentially the death of four baby dragons. They never had a chance.

"Very daring! That's some nerve he's showing —and— yes, he's got the egg!"

Krum seized the golden egg, and the match came to an end, applause filling the stadium. Bagman announced the deduction of points for damage to the eggs. I never stopped to think that the eggs were in as much danger as the champions. The crowd cheered as Krum was awarded a total of forty points, not bad. I idly wondered what dragon Harry will face.

I think the colour drained from my face when I saw the cement-coloured eggs placed in the field. I swore aloud, and glanced at Fred and George; both of them had gone pale. What is the Ministry playing at? My heart rate quickened as the lizard-like, jet-black dragon came onto the field. Bronze horns lined its long, muscular body, and particularly large ones protruded from its tail. Its yellow eyes glared menacingly at the flabbergasted crowd. The tent flap rustled as the whistle sounded, Harry's figure paced silently out to face his snarling opponent—a Hungarian Horntail.

Harry raised his wand, and shouted, "_Accio Firebolt_!"

The stadium went eerily quiet; we seemed to be holding our breath. The silence was cut by whistling air; then I saw the Firebolt hurtling towards Harry. The broomstick stopped next to Harry, hovering, waiting for him to mount. The noise level increased, Bagman shouted something as Harry kicked off from the ground, soaring upwards, leaving the crowd and dragon behind. I had been told by the twins Harry played Seeker for the Gryffindor team, and in mere seconds I learned why. He dived with the Horntail's head following him. Harry pulled out of the dive as the dragon released a jet of fire where Harry would have been had he not swerved. I stared, amazed.

"Great Scott, he can fly!" Bagman yelled as the crowd shrieked and gasped as one. "Are you watching this, Mr. Krum?"

Harry soared higher, flying in a circle. The Horntail still followed his every move, its head revolving on its long neck. The crowd gasped as Harry plummeted when the dragon opened its mouth, but Harry wasn't so lucky this time. He missed the flames —thank Merlin— but the tail came whipping to meet him instead, and as he swerved, a long spike grazed his shoulder, ripping his robes. The crowd shrieked and groaned, yet Harry continued on, zooming behind the dragon.

The dragon writhed and twisted, furling and unfurling her wings, keeping her eyes on Harry. She didn't want to take off, too afraid to move far from her eggs. Harry began to fly one way, then another, not enough to annoy the Horntail, but enough that the dragon saw him as a threat, and continued to watch him. The dragon's head swayed this way and that with her fangs bared. He rose a few feet higher, while the dragon let out a roar of exasperation. She thrashed her tail again, but Harry couldn't be reached now. The dragon shot fire into the air, which Harry dodged. Finally, the dragon reared, unfurling her leathery wings, and Harry dived. Before the dragon knew where he had gone, he sped towards the ground, to the unprotected clutch of eggs, and seized the golden egg. With a huge burst of speed, he soared upwards, over the stands, the egg tucked under his uninjured arm. The stadium screamed and applauding, almost loud enough to drown out Bagman shouting.

"Look at that! Will you look at that! Our youngest champion is quickest to get his egg! Well, this is going to shorten the odds on Mr. Potter!"

Dragon-keepers rushed forward to subdue to the dragon. Near the entrance of the enclosure, I could see Professors McGonagall, Moody, and Hagrid gesturing to Harry to land. He flew over the stadiums one last time, the crowd's roar of approval deafening. He landed, and exited the enclosure. I let out a shaky breath.

"Are you all right?" George asked. Swallowing, I nodded.

"Isn't that your brother, Charlie?" Lee shouted to the Weasley twins. The twins looked.

"So it is," they said together.

"Come on, Kat," George said as he and Fred stood up.

"But I want to see Harry's score," I protested, what he did was bloody amazing.

"You can see it from the ground," George said, sounding amused.

I sighed, before grumbling, "Fine."

I stood up, and followed the twins out of the stadium. We came to the gates that created the enclosure. A man with bright red hair noticed us, and came striding over. I noticed he was built similarly to the twins, and his face weather-beaten and freckly.

"Hey, Fred. Hey, George," he greeted. "Who's your friend?"

"Kat Wilkinson," I said, extending my hand, which he shook. I felt calluses and blisters.

"Charlie Weasley," he said. "You're new here, aren't you?"

"Yes, I transferred here from Canada," I said.

"Yet your accent is perfect," Charlie said. Oh, sweet Merlin, help me.

"My parents were British," I said simply. "Um, would it be all right if I asked one of your friends about the dragons?"

"Sure," Charlie answered. I walked a few feet away, still within earshot. I questioned a man, who had a heavy French accent, so I spoke in fluent French, though listening to their conversation.

"Out of your league," Charlie said almost immediately to George.

"Why does everyone keep saying that?" George asked, sounding exasperated.

"Because it's true," Fred said sniggering. I rolled my eyes.

"Well," Charlie said seriously, "do you fancy her?"

"Yeah," George answered.

"You might have a shot, then," Charlie told him.

I walked over. "Harry's tied for first place with Krum," I informed them.

"Really?" they asked together.

"Yeah, really," I said with a laugh.

"C'mon, Fred, I reckon it's time we get a party organised," George said.

"Yeah, I gotta go," Charlie said. "Bye, guys."

"See you later," the twins said.

"Bye," I said, before heading to the castle.

* * *

Later that evening, a party was well under way in the Gryffindor common room. Fred and George had nicked loads of cakes, and flagons of pumpkin juice and Butterbeer, which were everywhere. The room exploded with cheers and yells when Harry entered. Lee let off some Dr. Filibuster's Fabulous No-Heat, Wet-Start Fireworks, leaving the air thick with stars and sparks. A fourth year put up some impressive banners, mostly depicting Harry zooming around the Horntail's head on his Firebolt, but some showed Cedric with his head on fire.

"Blimey, this is heavy," Lee said, picking up the golden egg, and weighing it in his hands. "Open it, Harry, go on! Let's just see what's inside it!"

"He's supposed to work out the clue on his own," Hermione Granger said immediately. "It's in the Tournament rules..."

"Yeah, go on, Harry, open it!" several people echoed.

Lee passed the egg to Harry, and Harry prised it open.

Although the egg was hollow and empty, the common room filled with the most horrible noise, a screechy wailing. Immediately, I covered my ears.

"Shut it!" Fred bellowed, his hands over his ears.

"What was that?" another fourth year said, staring at the egg as Harry slammed it shut. "Sounded like a banshee... maybe you've got to get past one of those next, Harry!"

"It was someone being tortured!" another fourth year said. "You're going to have to fight the Cruciatus Curse!"

"Don't be a prat, Neville, that's illegal," George said. "They wouldn't use the Cruciatus Curse on the champions. I thought it sounded a bit like Percy singing... maybe you've got to attack him while he's in the shower, Harry."

"Want a jam tart, Hermione?" Fred asked.

She looked doubtfully at the plate he offered her. Fred grinned.

"It's all right. I haven't done anything to them. It's the custard creams you've got to watch—"

Neville, who had just bitten into a canary cream, choked and spat it out.

Fred laughed. "Just my little joke, Neville..."

Hermione took a jam tart, before asking, "Did you get this all from the kitchens, Fred?"

"Yep," Fred replied, grinning at her. "'Anything we can get you, sir, anything at all!'" he said, imitating a house-elf. "They're dead helpful... get me a roast ox if I said I was peckish."

"How do you get in there?" Hermione asked innocently.

"Easy," he answered, "concealed door behind a painting of a bowl of fruit. Just tickle the pear, and it giggles and—" He stopped, looking suspiciously at her. "Why?"

"Nothing," she said quickly.

"Going to try and lead the house-elves on strike now, are you?" George said. "Going to give up all the leaflet stuff and try and stir them up into rebellion?"

Several people chuckled. Hermione didn't answer.

"Don't you go upsetting them and telling them they've got to take clothes and salaries!" Fred warned. "You'll put them off their cooking!"

Neville caused a diversion by turning into a large canary.

"Oh— sorry, Neville!" Fred shouted over the laughter. "I forgot— it _was _the custard creams we hexed—"

A minute later, however, Neville moulted, and after the feathers had fallen off, he looked completely normal, he even joined in laughing.

"Canary Creams!" Fred shouted to the excited crowd. "George and I invented them— seven Sickles each, bargain!"

At about one in the morning, the party ended. Exhausted, I gratefully climbed into bed, thinking about today. The four champions had survived the first task. Though, it made wonder what's next. And I thought of what George had said today. I had a feeling, but I couldn't be sure. Still, when he confirmed, it felt... strange. I dunno, maybe I just wasn't expecting it?

* * *

**Author's Note: I'm sorry! I lost the pages that had Cedric, Fleur, and Krum battling their dragons, and my friend found them under my bed. But now, it is my summer holidays (two months of freedom, woohoo!), so I should update faster. My goal is to have this finished by October. I almost have chapter fourteen written, and you guys will probably hate me... as will my friend who reads this whenever I see her... Cheerio!**


	11. Ch 11: Interpreting Among Other Things

**Disclaimer: If I did, I'd've been able to do something fun for my sweet sixteen.**

* * *

**Chapter Eleven  
Interpreting Among Other Things**

"_But who can decide what they dream?  
And dream I do._"  
Taking Over Me- Evanescence

_I stood alone in what looked to be the Forbidden Forest. The vast trees loomed easily over me. The moon hidden by clouds left me completely in the dark. I drew my wand, lighting it. The light barely illuminated the clearing I stood in. For some reason, I felt afraid, very afraid, and I had the sense I'm running from something. As if I'd remembered my mission, I began to stumble forward._

_Eyes leered at me from every corner, and I heard someone calling my name. But I heard other things, whispers in the branches, in _his_ voice. Still, I could hear someone desperately calling my name, beckoning me forward, while the monster chased after me. _

_What felt like hours later, I stumbled across a bed in another clearing. And suddenly I felt tired. I laid down on the bed, despite the warning not to. The fear left me, replaced by exhaustion._

_When I woke up, I found my hands and feet bound to the bedposts. Frightened, I began to struggle. Then, I heard the monster's voice._

_"Now, now, Katharina, keep struggling, and your little boyfriend here, gets it," he said. Scared, I looked to where he pointed, and saw George bound to a tree. He'd be forced to watch all that would happen._

_"Let him go," I snarled, hatred filled me._

_"Why would I do that?" And I could tell from his tone that the question is rhetorical. He got on to the bed, straddled me, and began to undress me._

_I began to cry; I turned to George._

_"I love you," I told him._

_"I love you, too," he responded._

_"Please," I begged him. "Please don't watch."_

_The monster finally had me undressed. Leering at me, he–_

I woke up shaking, that's the fifth time I had that nightmare this week, and my dream before had been so pleasant. Why? I looked at my watch; it's only two in the morning. Still shaking, I lie back down, and fell into a dreamless sleep.

* * *

With the amount of sleep I had this week, it's no wonder I can't remember how I ended up in an abandoned seventh floor corridor, when ten minutes ago, I'd been eating lunch in the Great Hall. Not to mention, George is next to me.

"You look dead tired, Katharina," George said.

"I keep telling you, it's Kat," I mumbled, trying (and failing) to conceal a huge yawn. He ignored me, as he usually did, when I insisted he and his twin call me by my nickname. "I know I'm dead tired. I haven't had much sleep, thanks to a nightmare."

"What is your nightmare about?" George asked.

I shrugged. "Doesn't matter. Nightmares are quite normal for me, anyway."

"Nightmares are normal for you?" he asked, his tone disbelieving.

"I have mentioned my stepfather, right?" I asked.

"Oh, right. Sorry," he apologized.

"It's all right," I told him.

"What was your mum like?" he asked suddenly.

"Excuse me?" I asked defensively.

"Well, you always talk about your stepfather, who I've gathered is… evil, but you never talk about your mum. All I know is that your mother died when you were fourteen."

"Mum was born here in England, in Godric's Hollow, I believe. Anyway, she came to school here in nineteen-seventy-one, pretty much just as the war with You-Know-Who began. She was also a Gryffindor. When she was eighteen, Death Eaters killed her parents and two younger sisters. She was at a friend's house when it happened. Her sisters were fourteen and twelve. When she was seventeen, she found out about me. She told my father on his eighteenth birthday, and he left her. She left Britain when she got to London, and fled to where I grew up.

"Even though she was only eighteen, she was a good mother. My needs came before hers. She was fun, kind, loving, just the best. She took me to Muggle places, one of her friends was Muggle-born. She's gone too, died when I was little." I paused. "She always used to say to me, 'Kat, you're a brilliant and beautiful witch, don't let people hold you back.'"

"Sounds like your mother was a smart woman," George said.

"She was," I replied. I loved how she'd phrase that, intelligence first, then beauty. "She also used to tell me, 'never back down from a fight,' and 'you gotta stand up for what you believe in.' Also, 'you're not a normal teenage witch, Kat, but then again you're my daughter'," I added with a laugh, and a small, sad smile.

"You miss her," George stated, not questioned.

"Yeah," I said.

"Katharina, you're bleeding," he said.

"I know," I said nonchalantly.

"You knew?" he asked incredulously. I looked, blood ran down my wrist, and dripped off my left middle finger, creating a pool. _Fucking bastard._

George gently lifted my arm, and pulled back my sleeve, revealing a cut that started at the heel of my hand, and ended at my elbow. A cursed cut. He looked at me wordlessly.

"It's cursed," I explained. "Karl has this ancient ornament, and whenever he touches it, this cut reopens."

"Haven't you told anyone?"

I shook my head. "Too many influential friends in the Canadian Ministry."

"But they can't ignore it," George said.

"They can," I said. "They'll just say it's self-inflicted, or someone else did it to try and throw him in jail."

"Tell Dumbledore," George replied instantly. "He'll make sure something's done."

I shook my head at that too. "No, I don't like too many people knowing."

"Katharina, something has to be done."

"Do you want to know what happened to the last person who tried to bring him to trial?" I asked George. He barely nodded. "It was my old Transfiguration teacher; he used to be my next door neighbour. He was kicked out of his house."

"All right, fine. But what about your arm?" he inquired.

"I don't have a choice, Madam Pomfrey will have to look at it," I said, thinking of healing it myself. George got to his feet.

"Well, come on, then."

I panicked. "What d'you mean?"

"I'm coming with you," he said simply.

"I know where the hospital wing is, George," I said, as he helped me to my feet. "Thanks."

"I'm just coming to make sure you get there," he said, with a smirk. Dammit, he knows what I'm thinking.

We set off in silence. Ten minutes later, we reached the hospital wing.

"Well, thanks for… escorting me to the hospital wing," I said, hoping he'd go away, but he shook his head.

"You're not getting rid of me that easily," he said. "I'm coming with you."

"Why?" I asked.

"'Cause you'll just run into the nearest washroom, when I'm out of sight," he said confidently.

"I'll be a good girl," I told him. "I'll go see Madam Pomfrey."

"I doubt that very much," he said.

"Am I that predictable?" I asked, angry with myself.

"No," he replied. I looked at him, he doesn't seem like he's lying, but I do think there's more to it than that 'no'. I decided now isn't a good time to press the subject, though.

He opened the door, and ushered me in. Madam Pomfrey looked at my arm, and forced me down on a bed. George sat next to me. Madam Pomfrey looked at me questioningly.

I sighed. "It's a cursed cut. I've had it since I was thirteen."

"And how old are you now?" the matron inquired.

"Sixteen, my birthday is in July," I answered.

"Is it an old family curse?" she asked.

"Not in my family, but yes, I believe so," I replied, starting to feel woozy and light-headed from the loss of blood. I also appeared very pale.

"And some sort of ancient artefact causes it to reopen, correct?"

"Yeah," I said faintly. Both Madam Pomfrey and George looked at me in alarm.

"How long has she been bleeding?" Madam Pomfrey demanded.

"Dunno, about fifteen minutes or so," George said.

"Fifteen minutes!" Madam Pomfrey nearly shrieked. She bustled towards her office. "Whatever you do, do not let her fall asleep."

I repositioned myself so I leaned against George, because I knew if I lay on the bed, I'd be sound asleep the second my eyes closed.

"You're a glutton for punishment, you know that, Katharina?" he whispered.

I shrugged my shoulders. "How come you won't call me 'Kat'?" I asked. "It's three syllables shorter than Katharina."

"Does it annoy you?" he asked.

"Greatly."

"That's why."

"What's wrong with calling me 'Kat'? Even the people who hate me called me 'Kat'."

"Would you like me to call you 'Kat'?" he asked, sounding faintly amused.

"It'd be nice," I said just as Madam Pomfrey returned with a goblet.

She handed it to me as George helped me back to a sitting position. I gulped it down. Madam Pomfrey waved her wand over my arm, and rubbed a yellowish-orange balm/potion over the cut. Tight bandages appeared on my arm.

"There, good as new," Madam Pomfrey proclaimed.

Figuring I could leave now, I did just that, with George following closely.

"Not so bad, was it?" he asked. "Your arm's perfectly healed."

I remained silent. Besides Iris, Vanessa, and Phil, no one cared what the hell happened to me. I was nothing more than a fly on the wall. I was treated like dirt. I was on the lowest rung of the social standing ladder; actually, I was _below_ that. I was a nobody there. But here, all sorts came to Hogwarts; it's the biggest –and only– school in Britain. It's also one of the best. Plus, it's free. Midstars isn't even a boarding school, and the tuition is much more than it needs to be. Why, oh why, couldn't my mother have sent me here in the first place? And I finally had friends my age who cared whether or not I lived to see tomorrow. Friends who'd notice if I went off the deep end. Speaking of which…

"Thanks," I said quietly.

"For what?" he asked, puzzled.

"For saving my life," I said, my voice almost inaudible.

"Well, I wouldn't go–" he began, but I cut across him.

"Yes, you did," I said simply. "Karl will figure out time zones, sooner or later, and I'd've bled to death in my sleep." I paused, and he shivered at my words, and so did I. "By forcing me to see Madam Pomfrey, you saved my life, 'cause now, the curse is removed."

"He can't hurt you anymore, Kat," George said, talking just as quietly as me. I smiled slightly at the use of my nickname. "Not while you're here."

"But that's just thing," I told him with a rueful smile, turning to leave. "Until he is rotting in Azkaban, he can, and he will."

I left, leaving George to stare at my retreating figure.

* * *

Several sleepless nights later, I stood in the Divination section of the library. I do not hold much regard for Divination, but I figured I could use some insight by interpreting my nightmare, and figure out what my subconscious is trying to tell me. I pulled a very thick volume titled, _Dream Oracle _off the shelf. I opened it, and scanned the index for nightmare. What I found was:

_We all have had nightmares at various parts in our lives. They are quite normal. But what is exactly a nightmare and why do we have them?_

_Nightmares are a subcategory of dreams. The distinction of a nightmare is its frightening and/or emotional content. You tend to wake up in fear in the midst of a nightmare. Because of its frightening nature, you tend to remember your nightmares and the vivid details. They have a bigger impact upon your waking mind and its images stay with you throughout the day. One reason for nightmares may be a way of our unconscious to get our attention about a situation or problem that you have been avoiding. It is time to take notice and confront a problem or situation. Nightmares serve an important purpose in showing you what is troubling you from within you deeper levels. Discussing, analyzing, and understanding your nightmares can lead to a solution for some problem, internal conflict or personal difficulty._

Well, that would've been extremely helpful, if I only hadn't already known that. Frustrated, I returned to the index, and looked up recurring dream. Turning to the page, I found:

_Most dreams contain messages that serve to teach us something about ourselves. Unfortunately, many a times we forget what we dream about as we go about our daily routine. With recurring dreams, the message may be so important and/or powerful that it just will not go away. The frequent repetition of such dreams forces you to pay attention and confront the dream. The dream is trying desperately to tell you something. Such dreams are often nightmarish or frightening in their content, which also helps you to take notice and pay attention to them._

_Recurring dreams are quite common and are often triggered by a certain life situation or a problem that keeps coming back again and again. These dreams may recur daily, once a week, or once a month, but whatever the frequency, there is little variation in the dream content itself. It usually points to a personal weakness, fear, or your inability to cope with something in your life - past or present. _

_The repetitive patterns in your dream can reveal some of the most valuable information on yourself. It may point to a conflict, situation or matter in your waking life that remains unresolved or unsettled. Or some urgent underlying message in your unconscious is demanding to be understood. _

_Following are some tips in overcoming your recurring dreams. _

_In understanding your recurring dream, you must be willing to accept some sort of change or undergo a transformation._

_You must be willing to look within yourself and confront whatever you may find no matter how difficult it may be. _

_You must be able to look at the dream from an objective point of view. Try to get pass the emotional and reactive elements of the dream and get down to the symbolic images. Many times dreams are masked by elements that are disturbing preventing you to delve any deeper. This is a defence mechanism that your unconscious may be putting up._

_Be patient. Do not get discourage if these dreams still recur even after you thought you have come to understand them._

_Learn to accept yourself truly and fully. _

_Often times, once you discover what your recurring dream is trying to tell you, these dreams will change or altogether disappear._

Okay, slightly more useful information, but only slightly. I returned to the index one last time, and looked up what seemed to be the main point of my dream.

_To dream that you have been raped, indicates vengeful feelings toward the opposite sex. You are feeling violated in some way or being taken advantage of. Something or someone is jeopardizing your self-esteem and emotional well-being. You feel that someone or something is being forced upon you. Dreams of rape are also common for those who were actually raped in their waking life._

"What're you looking at?" a voice I knew so well, questioned.

"Nothing," I said quickly, spinning to face him, and close the book in one swift motion.

"Nothing?" he repeated, manoeuvring to stand next to me, and regarded the title. "_The Dream Oracle_?" he asked sceptically. "I thought you aren't taking Divination."

"I'm not," I confirmed, hoping he wouldn't remember me saying I don't put much store in Divination.

"Or that you don't hold much regard for the subject," he said, flipping the book open to the last page I had open.

"Do you remember everything I've said?" I asked, trying to sound teasing. But he sounded very serious when he answered.

"Yes." I noticed why he sounded serious; he had been reading what I had been researching. "Is this what you dream about?" he asked looking concerned.

I shrugged indifferently. After keeping things to myself for five years, I don't exactly want to explain my fears. "Doesn't matter."

"'Doesn't matter?'" he repeated incredulously. "Kat," he said softly, "your stepfather can't hurt you here, can't touch you here. You're safe. The safest you've been."

"Yeah, until June," I pointed out. "Where will I go?"

"You can stay with us," he said immediately. I knew by 'us' he meant his family.

"But don't you have five other siblings?" I questioned.

"Well, yeah, but two live out of the country," he replied.

"Why do you care so much?" I asked. "I mean, I'm just an poor orphan English girl, who was brought up in another country and has had a tough life for the last five years."

"I don't think you're a poor orphan English girl who was brought up in another country, and has had a tough life for the last five years," he said seriously.

"No?" I said doubtfully.

"No," he said, his voice barely audible. "I think you are a beautiful English girl, who just happened to be brought up in a different country, has had horrible luck for five years, which has toughened you up, and you're finally where you belong."

I looked at him, and realised not only does he really believe what he had just said, but also he also probably loves me. Unexpectedly, I gave him a hug. I delighted in his arms securing a tight hold on me, my body tingled.

"Thank you," I whispered into his ear, resting my head on his shoulder for a moment. I heard a mewing, and George froze.

"Relax," I breathed. "It's Anya, not Mrs. Norris. Wait, what time is it?"

George released me so he could get a better look at his watch. "Shit. It's past curfew."

Ah, that's why Anya came to get me.

"How're we going to back to the Tower without Filch or Mrs. Norris finding us?" George asked.

"Anya," I replied immediately. "She can lead us back without running into anyone, ghosts included." I looked at my Kneazle. "Anya." She jumped on the table, and regarded me intelligently. "We need to get back to the Tower without _anyone _finding us, especially Snape, Filch, and Mrs. Norris."

She looked at me thoughtfully, before jumping off the table and disappearing into the darkness. We followed closely behind. She led us out of the library, and into the dark, quiet, empty corridors.

"Why do you think Madam Pince didn't kick us out?" I asked as loudly as I dared.

"I dunno, probably didn't think to look there, since hardly anyone takes Divination," George said.

We remained silent, with Anya leading the way, when Anya stopped. I signalled George to stop as well, and we hardly breathed. A few seconds later, we heard Filch walk by, talking to his cat. After Anya was sure Filch had gone, she continued forward. We trailed closely behind, and ten minutes later, found ourselves in front of the Fat Lady. George smiled, and I couldn't help it, I smiled too.

* * *

**Author's Note: This chapter turned out longer than I thought it would. Hope you liked it. The dream interpretations I used come from a website called Dream Moods, I couldn't get the link to work, sorry.**


	12. Ch 12: The Best Day of My Life So Far

**Author's Note: I thought I'd update this earlier than I planned, because it's a holiday in Canada today. Our amazing country is 142 years old! Happy Canada Day to all the Canadians who read this!**

**Disclaimer: If I was JKR, I wouldn't just own Doctor Who Series 2 on DVD, I'd own them all…**

**

* * *

**

**Chapter Twelve  
****The Best Day of My Life So Far**

"'_Cause I'm feeling nervous  
__Trying to be so perfect  
__'Cause I know you're worth it, you're worth it_"  
Things I'll Never Say— Avril Lavigne

At the end of Thursday's Ancient Runes lesson, Professor Babbling asked us to quiet down, something she never really did. We quietened immediately.

"Christmas is fast approaching, which means, so is the Yule Ball," she began. Aw, crap, _another _Christmas ball. "The Yule Ball is a traditional part of the Tournament, an occasion for us to socialise with our foreign guests."

A few girls looked like they're resisting the urge to talk, while I resisted the urge to bang my head on my desk.

"The Ball will be open to fourth years and above only, though you may invite a younger student, if you wish. The Ball begins at eight o'clock sharp on Christmas Day, and ends at midnight in the Great Hall. There will be no Christmas tea, as the Ball will include a feast. And dress robes will be worn.

"Although this is a chance for everyone to have fun, it does not mean we are relaxing our standards of behaviour expected from Hogwarts students. There will be serious consequences if any one of you embarrasses Hogwarts in _any_ way."

The bell rang, and we hurriedly exited the room. Professor Babbling sounded too much like McGonagall for our liking. While the girls around me immediately launched into discussions about the Yule Ball, I walked silently, thinking of all the balls I'd been forced to attend.

Although the Yule Ball isn't mandatory, I knew everyone from fourth year and above will be there, which means I have to go too. Ah, well, at least I have friends to sit with this time, and judging by the excitement, this kind of thing doesn't happen too often. Thank Merlin.

* * *

By the end of next week, I wished Hogwarts had never heard of the Yule Ball. By the time I crawled into bed Saturday, I had been asked by twelve Gryffindors, ten Ravenclaws, and eight Hufflepuffs (yes, I kept count). I knew most only asked because of my looks. I turned in earlier than I had intended, but Trish, Jody, Angelina, and Alicia would not stop teasing me about it. I felt like I'm back at Midstars, but the students are nicer.

Charms was all right, Friday. Cedric decided to tease me about all the… invitations. He seemed to think it was fun to watch me get very irritated about it, up until I set his quill on fire. _That_ shut him up. There was no real damage to the quill; the flame was so quick that Flitwick didn't even notice. Then I asked Cedric how many girls had asked him.

"A fair few," he replied, "but there's someone I already want to ask."

And I let the subject drop there.

* * *

Sunday morning I tried to avoid anyone as I left the castle to go sit near the lake. The snow sparkled in the weak sunlight, the air, slightly chilly. I dusted snow off a rock, boulder, and sat down, thinking, mostly about my few months at Hogwarts.

Hours later, or maybe a few minutes later, I heard the snow crunch behind me. I felt someone sit next to me, and I looked. George. Of course.

"Hey, Kat," he greeted.

"Hey," I greeted back, smiling. "How'd you find me?"

"Well, I went to look for you, 'cause I wanted to ask you something, but Anya here, found me first. And she seemed to want me to follow her, so I did. She also thinks you need to come in now."

"I'm fine," I said stubbornly.

"Kat, your lips are blue," he replied.

"I'm fine," I repeated. "I believe you wanted to ask me something."

I thought I heard him sigh in exasperation, but I felt a cloak draped around me nonetheless. I looked, George had given me his.

"There's no reason for both of us to catch our death."

"I'm not the one with blue lips, am I?" he answered.

All right, he had a point. "Thanks," I said, pulling the cloak tighter.

The cloak, still warm from his body heat, warmed me up considerably. I smiled.

"Kat," he began. I turned to look at him.

"Yes?"

"I was wondering, do you want to go to the ball with me?"

The little voice in my head screamed, "Say yes! Say YES!" I swear my heart began to race, and maybe I blushed a little, but just a little. I took a deep breath.

"Yes," I said clearly. "I'd love to go with you."

He smiled. "Well, let's get you inside, before you freeze to death."

"Oh, all right," I said, letting him help me to my feet.

We headed back into the castle, with me still wrapped in his cloak. I looked at him, he just wore robes. I noticed him shiver, I felt guilty.

"Aren't you cold?" I asked him.

"Not as cold as you are," he replied.

We had reached the main staircase by now. I turned to go to Gryffindor Tower, but George caught my arm. He shook his head.

"Not just yet," he said. "Come with me."

He took my hand, and led me through a door I often saw Hufflepuffs go through. I followed George down a flight of stone steps, and into a broad corridor, brightly lit with torches, and decorated with cheerful paintings of fruit. He stopped in front of a painting of a gigantic silver bowl of fruit. He reached out, and tickled the pear. It giggled, and changed into a large, green door handle. George pulled it open and led me inside.

"Welcome to the Hogwarts kitchens, Kat," he said proudly.

"Oh, wow," I breathed. Hundreds of house-elves surrounded me. Midstars had house-elves, but not of this magnitude and they had been treated quite cruelly. One house-elf came up to us. He wore mismatched socks, children's football shorts, a tea cosy, and a tie. A free elf.

"What can Dobby get you, sir and miss?" the elf asked eagerly.

"Hey, Dobby," George greeted the elf. "Hot cocoa and hot soup."

"Which soup, sir?"

"Actually, it's for Kat," George replied. Dobby turned to me.

"Oh, um, chicken noodle, please," I said. The elves bustled around to get my food. Within a few minutes, I had a mug of hot cocoa in my hands and a bowl of chicken noodle soup. George and I sat down at a table, which I realised would be the Gryffindor table in the Great Hall. The kitchen had a high-ceiling, and mounds of brass pots and pans all around the walls. A huge brick fireplace at the other end. Four tables stood directly under their counterparts in the Great Hall.

I drank my cocoa, and proceeded to eat my soup. Once I had finished both, George said my lips were no longer blue. We said goodbye to the elves, thanked them, and left. After exiting the kitchens, I gave George his cloak back. He started to protest.

"Thanks," I said, "really, but if I wear that any longer, I'm going to overheat, and that's not good either."

He took it, and put it back on. We set off, towards Gryffindor Tower in complete silence, but both of us smiling. When we had reached the Tower, and entered the common room, Anya jumped into an available chair by the fire; I knew she'd save it for me. I went up to my dormitory, and grabbed parchment, ink, and a quill. I settled in front of the fire, and began to write three separate letters.

* * *

I shared a table with Harry, Ron, and Hermione, except I sat as far from Ron as I could, because he's currently building a house of cards with an Exploding Snap deck, which could explode at any second. The deck exploded, singeing his eyebrows, just as Fred and George approached.

"Nice look, Ron… go well with your dress robes, that will."

They sat down at the table with us as Ron felt how much damage had been done.

"Ron, can we borrow Pigwidgeon?" George asked.

"No, he's off delivering a letter," Ron said. "Why?"

"Because George wants to invite him to the ball," Fred said sarcastically.

"Because _we _want to send a letter, you stupid great prat," George said.

"Who d'you two keep writing to, eh?" Ron asked.

"Nose out, Ron, or I'll burn that for you, too," Fred said, waving his wand threateningly. "So… you lot got dates for the ball yet?"

"Nope," Ron replied.

"Well, you'd better hurry up, mate, or all the good ones will be gone," Fred said.

"Who're you going with, then?" Ron asked.

"Angelina," Fred answered promptly. Huh, wonder if Angelina knows that.

"What?" Ron asked, taken aback. "You've already asked her?"

"Good point," Fred said. I shook my head. He turned his head, and called across the common room, "Oi! Angelina!"

Angelina sat with Alicia by the fire, chatting, looked over at him.

"What?" she called back.

"Want to come to the ball with me?"

She looked at him for a second, "All right, then," she said, then went back to talking with Alicia, a bit of a grin on her face. Fred turned back to us.

"There you go," he told Harry and Ron, "piece of cake."

He got to his feet, yawning, and said, "We'd better use a school owl then, George, come on…"

They left. Ron stopped feeling his eyebrows, and looked at Harry.

"We _should _get a move on, you know… ask someone. He's right. We don't want to end up with a pair of trolls."

Beg pardon?

Hermione let out a splutter of indignation. "A pair of… _what_, excuse me?"

"Well– you know," Ron said, shrugging, "I'd rather go alone than with– with Eloise Midgeon, say."

"Her acne's loads better lately– and she's really nice!"

"Her nose is off-centre," Ron said. He'd done it now.

"Oh, I see," Hermione said, bristling. "So basically, you're going to take the best-looking girl who'll have you, even if she's completely horrible?"

"Er– yeah, that sounds about right," Ron said.

"I'm going to bed," Hermione snapped, going over to the girls' staircase without another word.

Ron turned to me, as if for explanation on what he did wrong.

"Oh, no, you're only fourteen, plenty of time for you to figure out what you said wrong," I told him. "Harry."

"Yeah?"

"Hit him," I told him.

"Why?" he asked.

"'Cause you're closer," I replied. Now both looked at me. I sighed.

"Look, you just don't tell a girl what you just said to Hermione, all right?" I told them. "But if you'll excuse me…"

I gathered my books, and headed up to the dormitory. I sat on my bed, and dug through my trunk for a book to read. I finally pulled out _The Hobbit_. I settled down to read it, feeling excited for Christmas for the first time in two years.

* * *

**Author's Note: Really short chapter, sorry. Only a thousand or so words. But I think that that's all this chapter needs, next chapter will be the Yule Ball. **

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	13. Ch 13: The Yule Ball

**Author's Note: Here we are, unlucky thirteen. I was hoping for chapter 14's contents to be chapter 13, but that didn't happen, so, it is the Yule Ball.**

**Disclaimer: 'Tis sad, I do not. If I did, I'd've already preorder Paramore's new album.**

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**Chapter Thirteen  
The Yule Ball**

"_I've never felt like this before  
I'm naked  
Around you  
Does it show?_"  
Naked– Avril Lavigne

The Christmas decorations stunned me. Everlasting icicles had been attached to the banisters of the marble staircase. Twelve Christmas trees stood in the Great Hall, adorned with everything from luminous holly berries to real, hooting, golden owls, and the suits of armour had all been Charmed to sing carols when anyone walked passed. It was quite something to hear an empty helmet that only knew half the words sing, 'Oh Come, All Ye Faithful.' More often than not, Filch had to extract Peeves from inside, where he would hide, filling the gaps with lyrics of his own, all of them very rude.

I sat in my Muggle Studies class, feeling slightly nervous, with my acoustic resting on my lap. A small audience had accumulated, including Professor Dumbledore, Lee, Fred, and George. Probably why I'm nervous. I took a deep breath, trying to calm myself. I caught George's eye, and he gave me an encouraging grin. I gave a smile, and ran the chords and notes through my head.

"Kat," Burbage called, "you're up."

No longer nervous, I grabbed my guitar, went to the front, sitting on a stool placed there for my use. I began to strum out, 'What Made You Say That'.

"_Maybe tonight I'm gonna tell him  
How I feel  
Maybe I'll leave well enough alone  
Maybe, just maybe, he'll wanna be my baby  
What if he's got plans of his own?_

_I'm waiting for the perfect moment  
Lookin' for the perfect phrase  
The one I finally choose is simply 'I love you'  
As the words came out, I heard a voice inside me say,_

_What made you say that?  
Was it the moonlight, was it the starlight in your eyes  
What made you say that?  
Have you been listening to your heart?  
It's too late now, I won't let you take it back  
'Cause I know love's what made you say that_."

I felt myself smiling as I sang. Doing one of the things I loved, playing my guitar. Once I finished, I moved onto 'When I'm Sixty-Four' and finished with 'Hey Jude'. The Muggle-borns in the audience sang along with me, and the witches and wizards caught on with 'Na na na na na na na na na na na, Hey Jude,' which is kind of cool. I finished to a round of applause, and a standing ovation from my friends. Fred, George, and Lee waited for me after class, since we had a spare together, and we headed to Gryffindor Tower.

"You were the best, Kat," George said, while the other two nodded along. I blushed.

"Where'd you get the guitar?" Fred asked.

"I took guitar lessons during the summer 'cause I was bored, and my sister's friend's parents gave me a guitar for my thirteenth birthday," I said. "They love music, and thought it a shame I could only play during the summer."

"You took guitar lessons?" George said.

I shrugged, "Like I said, I got bored. There wasn't much to do where I lived, except play Quidditch. And no one got up 'til noon, so I played guitar in the morning and Quidditch during the afternoon. Fairy lights," I added, because we had been standing in front of the Fat Lady for the last five minutes. She let us in; the guys sat a table, while I dashed up to the girls' dormitories to put my guitar away. When I came back, I pulled out homework I had received earlier that day.

"What's that for?" George asked.

"Potions," I said bitterly. "Snape wants it for Friday."

"Git," George said.

I laughed. "Well, git or not, I still have to write it."

* * *

_Later that day_

I sat cross-legged on my bed, in my jimjams, stroking Anya, watching my dorm mates with an amused look as they discussed everyone's dates for the Yule ball. _Just like at Midstars_, I thought, _but at least it's in a good-natured way_.

"Who are you going with, Trish?" Alicia asked.

"Kenneth Towler," she replied with a smile. "How about you, Alicia?"

"I'm going with Lee Jordan," she said. "Jody?"

"Matthew Thompson," Jody said. "Angelina?"

"You weren't in the common room?" Laurie asked immediately. "I thought everyone knew. Fred Weasley asked her."

"What, right in front of everyone?" Jody inquired. Everyone nodded. "Wow."

"Who asked you, Kat?" Trish asked. Suddenly, six pair of eyes turned to me. Crap. Why hadn't I closed the curtains?

"No one of consequence," I replied, shrugging.

"What's that? Canadian for, 'I don't have a date, 'cause I'm a freak,'?" Tori asked cruelly.

"Tori!" Laurie reprimanded.

"Well, she is!"

"No, she isn't! She's just different!"

"Well, she doesn't have a date, because no one knows what she really looks like!"

"Tori, that's enough," Laurie said sternly. "Who cares?"

"I do!" Tori snapped.

"You're only jealous 'cause the guy you fancy is interested in her," Laurie snapped.

"I am not!" Tori spluttered, going slightly red.

"Yes, you are," Laurie said.

"No, I'm not!"

"Don't lie to me, Victoria Adams," Laurie said. Tori glared at her. Trish glanced uneasily between the two girls before speaking.

"Well, Kat, who're you going with?"

"You'll have to wait to the Yule Ball," I said.

"We know who you're going with," Tori said viciously, "so, why don't you confirm it?"

"All right," I said evenly. "George Weasley asked me, and I said yes."

"You bitch!" Tori shrieked. "You know I fancy him, and you still said yes! Why?"

"'Cause if I have to go to this stupid ball, I'd rather go with a friend than a stranger," I snapped. "It's different for you, you've been here for five whole years, and I've only been here for three months." Has it only been three months? Huh, it feels much longer.

"He likes you more than as a friend, you know," Tori said unexpectedly.

"I know," I said, and I do. Anyone with functioning eyes can see that.

"And what about you?" she asked.

"I like him as a friend," I lied. Well, half-lied. I _do_ like him, trouble is, I like him... a lot. Oh, who am I kidding? It takes all my self-control not to kiss him. I don't think he'd mind if I did though. I'm not even denying the connection we had on the train. I mean, how could I? And... I'm babbling to myself.

"Really?" Tori asked.

I sighed. "What would I gain in lying to you, Tori?"

"Nothing," she agreed, "but just to be sure... _Stupefy_!"

I heard the muffled squeak of Anya. "Anya!" I cried, rounding on Tori. "You bitch! Why did you attack her?"

"Teaching you a lesson," Tori said, with a shrug.

"Nobody attacks Anya, and gets away with it," I said, drawing my wand. I hit her with a Stinging Jinx. Laurie helped Tori to her feet.

"C'mon, Tori," Laurie said. "Let's get you to Madam Pomfrey."

Once they had left, I went over to my bed, where Anya's limp form lay.

"Is she-?" Angelina asked quietly. I shook my head.

"No, she's still breathing," I said, scooping her up. "I'm going to bring her to Hagrid or Dumbledore."

I left the dormitory, and had just made it to the portrait hole, when I felt a hand on my shoulder. I turned, and found George. Of course.

"Is she dead?" he asked, looking at Anya.

"No," I said. "Why is everyone asking that? Tori Adams Stunned her."

"So, you _did_ hit her with a Stinging Jinx," George said.

"Yup," I said.

"Where're you going?" he asked.

"I'm taking her to either Dumbledore or Hagrid."

"You won't be allowed out of the tower. It's past curfew."

"Damn," I said. "I can try reviving her myself."

I went over to the chairs in front the fireplace, and sat down, placing Anya on my lap. "_Enervate_."

Anya's eyes fluttered open, and she curled up on my lap. I absently scratched her head as George sat next to me.

"D'you remember your first day here, during Defence Against the Dark Arts and—"

"—I ran out while he was using the Cruciatus Curse on the spider? Yeah, I remember. You brought me my books after," I added.

"Well, why did you run out of the classroom?" he asked.

I looked into the crackling flames. I wanted to tell him, really, I did, I just didn't know if I could. We just sat there for maybe twenty minutes while an internal battle raged on inside me.

"Well, if you're not going to say anything," George said, getting up.

"No," I said softly. "I'll tell you."

He sat back down as I still stared into the flames. I told George about being the victim of the Cruciatus Curse. I spoke quietly, trying to keep the tears in check.

"Books could never describe the pain," I said. "It's unimaginable. Unbearable. You feel as if your bones are on fire, as if white-hot knives are pricking your skin. The searing pain. Your eyes roll in your head. I remember thinking what did I do to deserve this? And you want anything for the pain to end. _Any_thing. I _wanted_ to _die_, George."

I fell silent for a few moments, letting my words sink in, before continuing. "He would be laughing as I screamed," I continued as he remained silent. "My mum would be yelling at him to stop, to leave me alone, but he would just laugh at her. And there'd be me, wondering what I had done to deserve that, all that pain. To use such a curse on a kid."

I told him everything, including Karl trying to rape me. George stayed silent after I had finished speaking.

"Say something," I said after ten minutes of continual silence.

"What do you want me to say, Kat?" he asked, his voice hard and angry. I instinctively flinched, though I knew he's not angry with me. "Sorry," he added softly.

"Anything," I said, my voice soft

* * *

_George's POV_

I silently listened as Kat talked about her experience with the Cruciatus Curse. It was heartbreaking. To have to live with that man for five years. I couldn't begin to imagine what it would've been like. Our family had so much love, sometimes too much. Fred and I would have to convince Mum to let her stay with us during the summer. There's no way she's going back there. He's inflicted enough damage on her already.

I really, _really_ like her. Fred and Lee think I'm wasting my time. Fred thinks there's no way she'll trust me enough to have an actual relationship. Lee says she's too pretty; therefore, she will never date me. I think they're both wrong. I just wished she'd open up more, instead of hiding in her shell.

The more I listened the more I wanted to kill her stepfather. How could anyone do that to her? Hear her screams and laugh? What had she done to 'deserve' that? Why her? Why? If you looked closely, you could see the damaged he'd done. Not physically, but mentally. Her eyes —her beautiful, hazel eyes— said it all. You see the pain, the mistrust, anger, misery, loneliness. The way her eyes never fully lit up, most of the time they were dull, as if no life existed, no spark burning brightly. Just nothing. I realised ten minutes too late that she had stopped speaking.

"Say something," she said.

"What do you want me to say, Kat?" I asked, my tone hard and angry. She flinched. Oops. "Sorry," I added quietly.

"Anything," she said her voice soft.

"I honestly have no idea what to say, Kat, except you are not going back there, ever," I said.

"Don't worry," she said with a smirk, "I wasn't planning on it."

* * *

_Christmas Day  
Kat's POV_

I woke bright and early to Anya jumping on my stomach. She knew she had presents, and she wanted them.

"Oof. Okay, I'm up," I told her, sitting up, massaging my stomach. "You're too heavy for that."

I opened the curtains. In the dim light, I could see a small pile of presents. I opened my present from Vanessa first. She had given me a nice charm bracelet, made of silver, with five charms in total: a 'K', a Kneazle, a broomstick, a lion, and the Hogwarts crest. I smiled, deciding to wear it tonight. I opened Iris's next, revealing a complete photo album. I quickly flipped through it. Most of the photos are of my mum and me when I was kid. I moved on to Phil's present. A book— _The Wizard of Oz_. I still had a present left, which is strange. I opened it curiously. The note read: To Kat, From Mrs. Weasley. I opened to find a jumper, with the letter 'K' on it, and a tin of homemade fudge. I set those aside, feeling very touched. I got dressed, and went downstairs to get breakfast. After lunch (which was absolutely delicious), I joined the Weasleys and Harry for a snowball fight. Hermione opted to sit out, and watched instead. I had fun; we used magical and non-magical means to throw the snowballs. At five, Hermione announced she was going to get ready for the ball.

"What, you need three hours?" Ron asked her, causing him to be hit by two large snowballs, courtesy of George and me. I couldn't resist. "Who're you going with?" Ron yelled after Hermione, but she just waved. At seven o'clock, it had become too dark to aim properly (I had become the unintentional target of four snowballs), so we headed inside. Harry and Ron didn't look exactly thrilled. We headed up to Gryffindor Tower in silence. The Fat Lady sat in her frame with her friend, Violet, both extremely tipsy, empty boxes of chocolate liqueurs littered the bottom of her picture.

"Lairy fights, that's the one!" she giggled when I gave the password.

Once in the common room, I sprinted up to the girls' dormitory. Immediately, Trish pounced on me.

"Kat! You have one hour to get ready for the ball, where have you been?" she demanded.

"Having a snowball fight," I answered, going over to my bed, peeling off my soaked shoes and socks off. I dried my drenched hair, and lengthened it to touch the middle of my back, also changing it to match the black I arrived with. I grabbed my dress robes out of the wardrobe, and pulled them on. Then I dug through my trunk for my jewellery box. I located it five minutes later, along with my shoes. Opening my jewellery box, I pulled out a family heirloom a diamond choker with five rows of tiny diamonds. I put it on, with matching earrings, bracelet, and watch. Trish came over, and studied me.

"Shorten your hair," she said.

"Why?" I asked wearily.

"I know what I'm going to do to your hair, but it needs to be shorter," she explained.

I sighed. "How much shorter?"

"A little bit longer than shoulder length," she said. I obliged, and remained absolutely still as she attacked my hair. Expertly, she gathered it up, and piled it up on my head. What she left loose, she curled. I noticed Jody had walked over, holding a make-up bag.

"I don't think she needs any make-up, Jo," Trish said. Jody nodded, and walked away.

"What time is it?"

"Quarter to eight," I replied.

"C'mon, we gotta go," Trish said, tugging at my arm.

"Hang on, Trish, I need my shoes!" She let go of my arm, and I slipped on my shoes, which added an extra two inches to my height.

"Oh, good, you painted your toe nails," Trish said absently, examining my shoes. "Well, are you ready?"

"As ready as I'll ever be," I answered nervously. Angelina and Alicia waited in the dormitory, because their dates happened to be Fred and Lee.

"Good," Trish said enthusiastically. It had been decided (without my permission or opinion) that I will be the last to leave the dormitory. Trish will exit first, then Alicia, then Angelina, and finally, moi. Merlin, I hate this. Trish descended the stairs, followed by Alicia, Angelina quickly followed, and I followed Angelina.

I kept telling myself I could do this, a mantra I kept up until the last bit of stairs. I stayed hidden in the shadows, suddenly too terrified to move.

"Where's Kat?" George asked, looking around as if I might appear out of nowhere. From my position on the stairs, I could see them, but they couldn't see me. Fred and George looked like duplicates, but their robes were different shades of blue. George's almost matched the colour of his eyes, but Fred's were a shade darker.

What kind of Gryffindor am I, if I don't have the courage to meet my date for a ball?

* * *

_George's POV_

I waited with my brother and friends for Kat, wondering what could be keeping her, when Patricia came down the stairs.

"Where's Kat?" I asked her.

"Right behind..." she trailed off, looking over her shoulder. She walked back to the stairs.

"Kat, come on," she called. "It's time to go. He's waiting for you."

A few seconds later, Kat appeared, smiling nervously. She looked absolutely amazing. She had her hair the same colour of black when I first met her, and her dress robes scarlet. She walked over to me. I offered her my arm.

"Shall we?" I asked her in a pompous voice, which got a giggle out of her.

"We shall," she responded in a mock-serious voice, linking her arm through mine.

We exited the common room, and headed to the Entrance Hall, finding a small group of people standing outside the doors of the Great Hall. The front doors opened, and we all turned to see the Durmstrang students enter with Karkaroff. Krum lead the students, accompanied with a pretty girl. The lawn in front of the castle had been transformed into a grotto of sorts full of fairy lights; fairies sat in the rose bushes, and fluttered over the statues of Father Christmas and his reindeer. Just before eight, I pulled Kat aside.

"I got you something," I told her, handing her a small box.

She took the box. "George, you didn't have to..."

"I know, I wanted to," I told her. "Open it."

She did so curiously and carefully. Her curiosity changed to amazement as she lifted the necklace out of the box. I watched her reaction as she examined the fine, silver chain, and the cursive letter K pendant with five diamonds set into it.

"Oh, wow," she breathed. "Thank you. It's beautiful, I love it."

"You're welcome. Here, let me help you put it on."

She turned around so her back face me. I slipped the necklace around her neck, fumbling slightly with the clasp as I looped it through the link. I noticed she had remained absolutely still, and she let out a shaky breath once my hands had fallen back to my sides.

At eight o'clock, the doors opened, and everyone but the champions entered. The house tables had been removed, instead there are a hundred or so smaller, lantern-lit tables, sitting about a dozen people each. We found a table, and sat down, waiting. The walls of the Great Hall had been covered in sparkling, silver frost, with hundreds of garlands of mistletoe and ivy, crossing the starry ceiling. Kat looked very nervous, sitting with four people she didn't know well. I leaned a bit closer to her.

"You look gorgeous," I whispered in her ear.

"Really?" she asked.

"Really."

A few moments later, the champions, and their dates entered with McGonagall leading them; the Great Hall burst into applause. At the top of the Hall, the judges sat at a large, round table. No food laid on the tables, nor the golden plates, but small menus lay in front of us. Very confused, I looked at the rest of my tablemates. They looked as confused as I felt. Kat leaned towards me.

"Watch Dumbledore," she whispered, nodding towards the judges' table. I looked as Dumbledore picked up his menu, and clearly said, "Pork chops!"

And pork chops appeared. Getting the idea, we all picked up our menus, and placed our orders with our plates. Conversation started as we began to eat. Kat remained silent, listening. Fred and I told a few jokes. After I told a joke that had our whole table laughing, I noticed something. Kat was really laughing, and smiling, a real smile that reached her eyes. And, she smiled at me. She actively joined in our debates, sounding like her usual smart self, but not looking the part at all. After the feast, Dumbledore cleared the tables, to make a dance floor. A stage rose with an odd assortment of instruments.

"He really did get the Weird Sisters," Kat murmured as the Weird Sisters trouped on stage. I looked at her. "What? Just 'cause I lived on a different continent, doesn't mean I don't know who the Weird Sisters are."

The champions now stood on the dance floor, dancing to the song. Five minutes later, other people joined the champions on the dance floor.

"Can I have this dance?" I asked Kat, offering my hand.

"Sure," she answered, taking my hand.

I led her to the dance floor, and we began to dance.

"I still can't believe I'm here," she said, sounding stunned, as I spun her. "I've wanted to come here since I first heard of it."

"You're here now," I said.

"Yeah, here now. Five years too late," she said bitterly.

"Hey, it's Christmas, let's not dwell on the past," I said gently. "And what matters now, is you're here, not there, having fun. You are having fun, aren't you?"

"Most definitely," she said, before adding, "You know, this is the best Christmas I've had in five years."

We fell silent, enjoying each other's company.

"How many siblings do you have?" she asked suddenly.

"Six," I answered automatically. "Why?"

"Is that another?" she inquired, nodding towards the judges' table. I looked, and saw Percy.

"Yeah, that's my older brother, Percy," I said.

"So, I've met Charlie, Fred and Ron obviously, and I've seen your sister in the common room," she said. "What's it like? Growing up with so many siblings?"

"Very loud, and very chaotic," I answered with a laugh. "I dunno, it just always been, and I wouldn't for a second want to change it."

She nodded thoughtfully. "I wanted a brother or sister when I was younger. When I'd asked Mum, she'd always say she didn't need another kid, I was all she needed."

She looked sad, and a bit lost.

"Are you okay?" I asked with concern. "We can sit down, if you like."

"No," she said quietly. "I'm all right. I just miss her. A lot." She gave me a sad look as the song ended, we applauded, and a faster tune began to play. I twirled her faster than before.

"George!" she exclaimed, laughing. "Are you trying to break my ankle?"

"Maybe," I answered with a sly grin. She smiled a sly grin of her own, and matched my pace. The people around us moved out of the way. Kat laughed, and I did as well. I was amazed at how it felt to have her close. Her eyes met mine, and she smiled, but it was a different kind of smile. Her eyes told me she's very happy, and something else, something I couldn't read.

"What is so interesting about my face?" she asked in a playful tone. I blushed. I hadn't realised I'd been staring. "Ah, at least you have the decency to blush. So, what's so interesting?"

"Everything," I answered.

"Everything? Please elaborate." Her tone sounded serious, but I somehow knew it wasn't.

"Everything about you is interesting," I told her. "Your eyes. The way your eyebrows furrow when you're concentrating on a difficult spell, or how you absently push your hair behind your ear when you're writing."

"Mr. Weasley, have you been staring at me?" she asked.

"I do believe I have been, Miss Wilkinson," I answered. "May I continue?"

"Please."

"Your bravery," I said simply.

"I am not brave," she said.

"Yes, you are, or you wouldn't be in Gryffindor," I told her. "I'll tell you why I think you're brave. For five years, a monster has abused you, and yet you're still sane. You're clever, brilliant, really."

"I'm 'brilliant'?" she asked. I nodded. "So, you find everything about me interesting. All the little things, my bravery, and my brilliance. Yet not a single mention about my looks. What about them?"

"A bonus," I replied. She laughed as the song ended, and we applauded once more. I spotted Bagman give McGonagall's hand a kiss, and make his way across the dance floor. I glanced around for Fred. He looked at me, gestured at Bagman, and turned his attention back to Angelina. I turned back to Kat.

"Everything all right?" she asked immediately.

"Yeah, Fred just wants to talk to me for a minute," I told her. "Why don't you get us some drinks, and I'll meet you over at our table?"

"Sure," she agreed. "My feet need a small break anyway."

She pushed her way through the crowd, and met with Angelina at the table with drinks. I felt bad. I cursed Bagman for cheating us out of our money. We cut Bagman off.

"We want our money, Mr. Bagman," Fred said, his voice low.

"I gave you your money, boys," he said immediately.

"No, you didn't," I said. "That was leprechaun gold. "It vanishes after a few hours, doesn't it?"

"I have no idea what you're talking about," he said.

"I think you do," Fred said.

"Look, boys, I'll talk to you later," Bagman said. "I need to speak to Harry about the upcoming task."

"Now what?" I asked miserably as Bagman vanished into the crowd.

"Now, we go back to the lovely young ladies we came with, and we step it up a notch with Bagman," Fred said matter-of-factly.

We pushed our way through the crowd back to our table, and sat down next to our respective dates. Kat handed me my Butterbeer.

"You okay?" she asked as I downed half the bottle. I shrugged. "I wouldn't recommend drinking the whole bottle in less than a minute. It doesn't sit in your stomach well."

I put the bottle down to look at her. "I've done it," she said. "Trust me."

The song ended, and the Hall applauded again. Kat looked at me thoughtfully as she stood up. "Come on," she said, holding her hand out. "Dancing will make you forget your troubles for tonight. You can wallow in them tomorrow. You've helped me, now I'll help you."

I felt myself smile as she led me back to the dance floor. "Do you love to dance?" I asked her.

"Only with you," she said with a mischievous smile. I smiled as well.

"I told you what I found interesting about you," I said as we begun to dance.

"Because I caught you staring at me," she said.

"Because you are so captivating," I told her. Now she blushed. "What do you find interesting about me?"

"Who says I find you interesting?" she asked her tone playful, almost flirty. "I think you are charming."

I felt chills. "Well, what do you find 'charming' about me?" I asked calmly.

"Your eyes, your smile, how you make me laugh and smile, that dazed look you get when I see you staring at me in Transfiguration, how only I can make you blush," she said smiling. "How you're making me feel right now."

"And how's that?" I asked.

"I don't think I should tell you yet," she said.

"I think you should tell me," I said.

She shook her head. "You'll have to wait until the last dance."

We talked the rest of the night about light topics, nothing heavy. I told her about the Quidditch World Cup, about my time in Egypt, and this 'n' that. She, in turn, told me about when she was a kid. We also danced for most of the night, only sitting at the table when no one else sat. The last dance of the night was slow. I opened my mouth to ask for an answer, but she spoke first.

"Remember how you said I'm brave?" she asked, looking at me. I nodded. "Well, I'm not. I'm scared. More scared than I've been my entire life. I'm scared of my feelings for you. I've never felt anything like it before. My heart races every time you come near me, and when you touch me, no matter how brief, my skin feels like it's on fire. I can't make sense of it, and that scares me too. And now... being this close... I... I don't even know... but I do know I'm happy to be around you. I hate it when you leave me, and that scares me..."

She looked at me imploringly. I looked at her for a few seconds, before I spoke.

"You think you're only one who's scared? Who feels that way?" I asked her. "I've never felt this way before. I'm scared too. More than I've ever been. When you talk of your stepfather, and all the evil things he's done to you, all the pain he's caused you, I want to murder him, because he hurt you. I can hardly think straight around you, barely concentrating in my classes, because you're there. Holding you this close... it feels amazing... right... And I'm very happy when you're near me, and I hate leaving you alone."

The Hall gave the Weird Sisters a long, final round of applause. Kat blinked in surprise before grinning sheepishly, and joining in the applause. I blinked in surprise too, I'd forgotten about everyone else. It had felt like Kat and I were the only two people in the world. I took Kat's hand as we followed the throng of people out of the Great Hall. Most students wished the ball had last longer.

"Do you wish the ball had lasted longer?" I asked Kat.

"Nope. Four hours was perfect. You?"

"I agree."

We headed up the marble staircase towards Gryffindor Tower. Once we made it up the seven floors, I led her down an empty corridor that eventually led to the Tower. I was about to turn the corner when I noticed Kat stood behind me leaning against a wall. I walked back over to her.

"Sorry," she said. "I had to take these damn shoes off." As she straightened up, she said, "This is the best Christmas I ever had."

I dunno when I decided to do what I did next, or why. Maybe it was our heart-to-heart during the last dance, maybe it was because I knew now she felt the same, or maybe it was just the way she was looking at me right now. All I knew was I leaned towards her, and kissed her. She backed up completely against the wall, and I vaguely registered her shoes dropping to the ground as she wound her fingers in my hair. My hands rested on her waist, pulling her close. I could taste the Butterbeer that lingered on her lips. A few moments later, we both pulled back, breathless. Kat leaned back against the wall, breathing heavily. I noticed her face had flushed, and passion burned in her eyes. My own face felt hot, and my lips swollen. Kat's gaze met my own, neither of us speaking. Minutes later, she bent down to pick up her shoes. Taking her hand in mine, we continued to the common room.

"Wow," she breathed.

"Understatement of the century," I said.

"No words to describe it?" she asked.

"None," I said. "How do you feel?"

"Alive," she said sounding a bit breathless. I nodded, knowing what she meant. We lapsed into a comfortable silence. Not long after we stood in front of the Fat Lady. I was about to give the Fat Lady the password, but Kat shook her head.

"Not just yet. This," she said, taking my free hand, and placing it above her heart, "is what you do to me."

Underneath my hand, I felt her heart beating faster than it should. Wordlessly, I placed her hand above where my heart hammered against my ribcage. She looked mildly surprised that she could cause such a reaction. Quietly, she gave the Fat Lady the password, and she led me inside. Only embers remained in the fireplace. She stopped in front of the girls' staircase. We both stood quietly, unsure of what to do.

"G'night, George," she said finally.

"Night, Kat," I said. She stood on tiptoe, and I thought she was going to give me a light kiss, or a peck on the cheek, but she wrapped her arms around my neck, and kissed me full on the mouth. I responded with the same intensity, and all too soon, she pulled away. I rested my forehead on hers.

"I wish this night didn't have to end," she said.

"I know," I said simply. She gave me a light kiss.

"Night, George," she said. Reluctantly, I let her go.

"Good night, Katharina," I said. She gave me one last smile before disappearing to the girls' dormitories. With a sigh, I headed up the boys' staircase. I entered my dorm very quietly. I walked over to my bed, pulling my robes over my head. I threw them on the floor, and sat down.

"George?" I heard Fred whisper. I looked towards his bed. I could barely see his outline, he propped himself up on his arm to look towards me.

"Yeah?"

"Are you all right?"

"Never better," I answered, thankful he couldn't see my face in the dark. "Night."

"Night."

I found my pyjamas, and pulled them on. I lay down, but didn't feel tired at all. My heart finally began to slow down to its natural pace, and my thoughts jumbled together. I could still feel Kat's last kiss on my lips, still see her smile, hear her laugh, the way she looked at me tonight. I fell asleep smiling.

* * *

**Author's Note: Okay, this is the longest chapter I've ever written. Exactly one week from now, I shall upload chapter fourteen, right before I leave to go see HBP! Just out of curiosity, does anyone watch Torchwood? And, if so, what do you think of Children of Earth? One more thing, has anyone heard Paramore's latest single, Ignorance? I love it! It's amazing. I'll shut up now, you probably have better things to do than read my babbling.**


	14. Ch 14: Unseen Complications

**Disclaimer: If I did, I would have seen HBP at the world premiere in London.**

* * *

**Chapter Fourteen  
Unseen Complications**

"_I won't be broken again  
I've got to break through— I can't keep going under"  
_Going Under— Evanescence

_December 26__th__  
Kat's POV  
_

I woke up at noon, yet I still felt tired. I lazily pulled on some clothes, and headed down to the Great Hall for lunch, hoping to meet George there, but I didn't see him. I ate my lunch in peace. I decided to get a start on my homework, considering I neglected it for a week. I walked back up to Gryffindor Tower to grab my books. When I entered the common room, I still didn't see George. Trying not to feel disappointed (what's the matter with me? Snap out of it, Kat!), I grabbed my bag, and headed down to the library

I didn't meet a single soul on my way to the library, not surprising I guess. I saw a few first and second years occupying tables, but other than that, no one else. I found a table, and set out to work. I passed the day focusing solely on my homework, and found myself shocked when Madam Pince told me the library is closed. I gathered my books, and left the library.

I had almost reached Gryffindor Tower when I heard the voices of Fred and George arguing in the corridor ahead of me. I quickened my pace. As I drew closer, words became distinguishable.

* * *

_Normal POV_

"...the bet."

Kat stopped in her tracks, a few feet away from the twins. George had his back to her, but Fred saw her, and motioned to George to turn around.

"Oh, um, hey, Kat. I've been looking for you," he said, giving her a weak smile.

"What bet?" Kat asked quietly and angrily. Both twins looked at her with alarmed and guilty expressions. Fred whispered something to his brother, and headed in the opposite direction. George watched his brother go before turning to Kat.

"Well?"

George sighed. He knew, no matter how angry she got, he had to tell her. "In September, I bet Fred and Lee I could get a date with you by the end of the school year."

"You WHAT?!" Kat shrieked.

"Kat, just listen," George pleaded, but Kat ignored him.

"So, you made a bet just because I'm pretty? I thought you were my friend. I thought you were different, but you know what? You're just like the rest. I trusted you," Kat said angrily, on the verge of tears. "I made a mistake. I let myself love you. Did last night mean _anything _to you?"

"Kat, it—" he began, but she didn't let him finish.

"What about what you said last night? Was that all lies?" she asked angrily. She knew her words were cruel, but she was hurt and angry.

"Kat, would you—"

"I thought—" she began, but she broke off with a shake of her head. "Never mind, it doesn't matter. I'm going."

She started to walk away, but George grabbed her arm, and spun her to face him. His blue eyes searched her hazel. He saw the unshed tears, and anger. She saw despair, along with a pleading look.

"Kat, don't do this," he said beseechingly.

"Leave me alone, George," Kat said softly.

Surprised by her words, he released her arm, and she walked away without a backward glance, leaving the boy who broke her heart behind. George stared at her retreating figure, before angrily hitting the wall. Ignoring his stinging hand, he headed off to the common room. He quickly located Fred sitting by the fireplace, and flopped into the chair next him.

"She'll forgive you," Fred said immediately. "She has to."

"I dunno," George said miserably. "She looked —and sounded— pretty pissed with me. I've never seen her so cross before."

"She's not here, if you're wondering. She came in about ten minutes ago, and headed straight up to the girls' dormitories," Fred said. "She'll come around."

After struggling into her pyjamas, Kat laid in bed, crying silently. Anya curled into a ball next to her. She heard her dorm mates go to bed, and fall asleep shortly afterwards. But now, well after midnight, Kat couldn't sleep. Her tears had long since dried up. The whole tower was silent, leaving Kat alone with her thoughts. She had never felt so angry before. She knew she should have listened to him, but she wasn't thinking rationally. Her temper had always allowed her to say cruel things she didn't mean, but that didn't mean she still wasn't cross with him, because she still was. The moment she had entered the dormitory, she had taken off the necklace he gave her, put it in its box, and threw it in her trunk. He lied to her! With that last thought, she finally drifted off to sleep.

George hadn't had much success in falling asleep either. All he could think about was Kat. He knew he had screwed up. He should have told her the moment he called off the bet, then maybe she wouldn't have been so angry. He called it off, because Kat didn't need that. She had enough bad things happen her in her life. He fell for her fast and hard. How could he not? Brilliant, talented, witty, not to mention beautiful. Why did he and Fred have to talk about it in the corridor? Why not in their dormitory where Kat wouldn't have heard them? Would she ever forgive him? She had to, didn't she?

* * *

**Author's Note: Extremely short chapter, but that's all it needs. I'm so excited! I'm going to see HBP at 11:30 am ET!!! I can't wait!**


	15. Ch 15: Crushed

**Disclaimer: If I honestly owned it, I would be doing more this summer than just going to Canada's Wonderland (no matter how awesome it is). **

* * *

**Chapter Fifteen  
Crushed**

"_I told you everything, opened up and let you in  
You made me feel alright, for once in my life  
Now all that's left of me is what I pretend to be  
So together, but so broken up inside"  
_Behind These Hazel Eyes— Kelly Clarkson

_Kat's POV_

_APPARITION LESSONS_

_If you are seventeen years of age, or will turn seventeen on or before 31__st__ August, you are eligible for a twelve-week course of Apparition Lessons from a Ministry of Magic Apparition Instructor.  
Please sign below if you would like to participate.  
Cost: 12 Galleons._

That's how the new term started, the promise of Apparition lessons. I signed up immediately, with the twins signing after. I could sense George watching me. Without meeting his gaze, I scurried out of the common room. I tried not to stay in the common room too long, because I would often find George staring at me. I acted as if I was fine. Trish and the other girls never noticed any different. They haven't suspected a thing. I avoided George at all costs. I ignored him at meal times and during class time. I knew he wanted to talk to me, but I didn't want to talk to him.

A Slytherin knocked into me after Charms on Friday, causing me to drop the books I held in my arms. I stared after him as he walked away laughing with his friends. "Freak!" he called.

"Bloody bastard," I muttered, bending down to retrieve my books. As I reached for _Advanced Potion-Making_, I noticed another hand reaching for it as well. I straightened as he did, and he handed my book without a word.

"Thanks," I said quietly, the first I've spoken to him since the end of December.

"Kat, can't we just—?" he began.

"No," I said shortly, cutting him off.

"I just want to talk you," he said.

"Well, that's too bad, because I don't want to talk to you," I told him. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I'm going to dinner."

With that, I turned and walked away, knowing he would be watching me. I headed quickly into the Great Hall, and sat alone at the Gryffindor table. I piled my plate with food, but suddenly no longer felt hungry, and ate very little. After finishing my pumpkin juice, I headed to the library, something I've been doing a lot lately. Once Madam Pince kicked me out of the library, I spent the rest of night in bed, trying to ignore the heartache, and deny any feelings I had for George. Some nights I'd lie awake all night, and go to class without any sleep. I didn't do that when Mum died. Merlin, I need help. Ah, well, Hogsmeade tomorrow. I didn't want to go, but Trish and Jody insisted I go.

I met Trisha and Jody after breakfast— after another sleepless night. The cold January air made me feel more awake as we walked down High Street. We window-shopped mostly, but stopped in Honeydukes. I fell into an easy chat with the girls, trying to avoid saying anything that would give away my unhappiness. Eventually, the cold got to us, and we headed into a very packed Three Broomsticks. We managed to find a table, and Jody went to buy our drinks. She came back a few minutes later with three tankards of foaming Butterbeer.

"You'll never guess who's here," she said, setting the tankards down.

"Who?" Trisha asked, grabbing two tankards, and handing me one.

"Ludo Bagman," she said.

"What he's doing here?" I asked. "There's no Triwizard stuff going on this weekend."

"Well, he's here, with a bunch of goblins. Look," she said, pointing towards the bar.

Trish and I looked; I saw Harry, Fred, and George as Bagman left with goblins following him out of the pub. As if George could sense me looking at him, he turned to look at me. Immediately, I turned away, and took a sip of my Butterbeer, choking on it. Apparently, this hadn't gone unnoticed by Trish, who turned to me with a knowing smirk. I looked away from her gaze.

"So," she began, while I inwardly groaned, "what is going with you and George Weasley?"

"What do you mean?" I managed to gasp out.

"You know what I mean," she said. Harry saved me from answering.

"Trying to ruin someone else's life?" he asked loudly. We looked at him. I could see him looking at a blonde woman wearing banana-yellow robes.

"Who's the blonde?" I whispered to Trisha.

"That's Rita Skeeter."

"The same Rita Skeeter who wrote that rubbish about Hagrid and Harry?" I asked. Trisha nodded.

"Harry!" she said, beaming. "How lovely! Why don't come and join—?"

"I wouldn't come near you with a ten-foot broomstick," Harry said irately. "What did you do that to Hagrid for, eh?"

"Our readers have the right to know the truth, Harry, I am merely doing my—" Rita Skeeter said.

"Who cares if he's half-giant?" Harry bellowed. "There's nothing wrong with him!"

The whole pub had gone silent. Madam Rosmerta stared from behind the bar, the flagon she was filling overflowed. Skeeter's smile flickered, but replaced itself very quickly. Skeeter snapped open her handbag, and pulled out an acid-green quill, which I recognised as an Quick-Quotes Quill, and said, "How about giving me an interview about the Hagrid you know, Harry? The man behind the muscles? Your unlikely friendship and the reasons behind it. Would you call him a father substitute?"

Hermione stood up abruptly, her Butterbeer clutched tightly in her. "You horrible woman, you don't care, do you, anything for a story, and anyone will do, won't they? Even Ludo Bagman—"

"Sit down, you silly little girl, and don't talk about things you don't understand," Skeeter said coldly. "I know things about Ludo Bagman that would make your hair curl... _Not _that it needs it—"

"Let's go," Hermione said. "C'mon, Harry— Ron..."

The entire pub watched as they left. I saw the Quick-Quotes Quill zooming across the parchment on Skeeter's table. Trisha turned back to me.

I sighed. "Nothing. Absolutely nothing."

"Really? You guys looked pretty cozy during the Yule Ball," Trish said.

"Thanks, Trish, it's nice to know I'm being watched," I said, taking a swig of my Butterbeer.

"You're welcome," Trish said. "What happened?"

"We got into a bit of a row of sorts," I said.

"You'll patch things up. I've seen the way he looks at you, and the way you look at him."

I banged my head off the table, groaning. "It's that obvious?"

"Um, yeah. Why do you think Tori hates you so much?"

"Great. I hate my life," I mumbled.

"It's not that bad," Jody said soothingly. "Come on; let's go back to the castle."

* * *

The last Saturday of January found me walking into the Great Hall with Trish and Jody for our first Apparition lesson. All four house tables had disappeared. The four Heads of House stood at the front of the Hall with a small wizard, who seemed as if a single gust of wind would blow him away.

"Good morning," the Ministry wizard said after McGonagall had called for quiet. "My name is Wilkie Twycross and I shall be your Ministry Apparition Instructor for the next twelve weeks. I hope to be able to prepare you for your Apparition test in this time. At the end of this course, many of you may be ready to take your test.

"As you may know, it is usually impossible to Apparate or Disapparate within Hogwarts. The headmaster has lifted this enchantment, purely within the Great Hall, for one hour, so as to enable you to practise. May I emphasise that you will not be able to Apparate outside the walls of this Hall, and that you would be unwise to try.

"I would like each of you to place yourselves now so that you have a clear five feet of space in front of you."

Everyone scrambled to separate themselves five feet apart. People banged into each other, and shouted at one another to get out of their space. I shook my head at their immaturity as the Heads of House moved amongst us, moving us into position, and breaking up arguments. About five minutes later, everyone stood in position and the Heads of House called for quiet once more.

"Thank you," Twycross said. "Now then..."

He waved his wand, and old-fashioned wooden hoops appeared on floor in front us.

"The important things to remember when Apparating are the three Ds! Destination, Determination, Deliberation!" Twycross said. "Step one: fix your mind firmly upon the desired _destination_. In this case, the interior of your hoop. Kindly concentrate upon the destination now."

I looked into the dusty interior of my hoop, thinking the Great Hall's floor needs a good scrubbing. My concentration wavered as I thought about my present dilemma. Hastily, I forced myself to think about the enclosed dusty area of my hoop.

"Step two: focus your _determination_ to occupy the visualised space! Let your yearning to enter it flood from every particle of your body!"

Okay, I want to enter that stupid hoop, even though it'd probably just be faster to walk the five feet. No, I can't think like that or I'll never Apparate. Right then, I want to enter that bloody hoop. I want to enter _that_ hoop.

"Step three: and only when I give the command... turn on the spot, feeling your way into nothingness, moving with _deliberation_! On my command, now... one— two— three—"

Despite being alarmed at asked to Apparate so quickly, I immediately focused once again. Vanessa had warned me to fully concentrate on Apparating, or you might splinch yourself— which Vanessa had managed for her test. I, along with everyone else, spun on the spot... and lost my balance, causing me to fall on the floor. I picked myself off the floor as Twycross asked us to readjust the hoops and get back into position. By the end of the hour, I felt quite dizzy as we left the Great Hall, and wondering how Apparating was discovered. I mean, not many people would decide to see what happens if you try to disappear into nothing and reappear somewhere else in a matter of seconds just by concentrating and turning on the spot, would they?

* * *

**Author's Note: Another shortish chapter. There will roughly be five chapters left. And now, I'm about to ask a stupid question... would anyone like to see a sequel? Anyone at all? Let me know in reviews or PMs, so I can at least work on a title. Thank you, it's greatly appreciated, and now, I'm off to find some ice cream...**


	16. Ch 16: Reconciliation

**Disclaimer: As much as I love the world of Harry Potter, what I own is equivalent to what is in my wallet. Nothing.**

* * *

**Chapter Sixteen  
Reconciliation **

"_I'm sorry about all the things I said to you  
and I know I can't take it back._"  
Sorry— Buckcherry

I sat in the library, completing a particularly nasty essay for Snape. I had almost finished, when I noticed the twins come in. Hastily, I bent down, pretending to retrieve something from my bag as they walked. Slowly, I straightened up. One of the reasons I did my homework in the library, the twins are rarely in here, if at all. And now, here they are.

"I wouldn't mind," I heard Fred say. "Be a talking point, wouldn't it?"

"What're you doing here?" Ron asked.

"Looking for you," George said. "McGonagall wants you, Ron. And you, Hermione."

"Why?" Hermione asked, sounding surprised.

"Dunno... she was looking a bit grim, though," Fred said.

"We're supposed to take you down to her office," George said.

Quickly, I rolled up my essay, and threw it my bag, along with my quill and inkpot. I made it out of the library, but not before the Weasleys and Hermione.

"Ladies first," George said, bowing low. I managed a wan smile as I hurried out of there. I spent the rest of the evening reading _The Wizard of Oz_.

* * *

At nine o'clock in the morning, I found myself seated with the rest of school (and Beauxbatons and Durmstrang) in stands that surrounded the lake, waiting for the second task to begin. In the cold February air, the students chatted excitedly amongst themselves. At about twenty-five after, I noticed Harry skidding to a halt as he arrived, splashing mud onto Fleur.

"Well, all our champions are ready for the second task, which will start on my whistle. They have precisely an hour to recover what has been taken from them. On the count of three, then. One... two... _three_!"

A whistle sounded. The champions waded into the lake. I saw Cedric and Fleur cast a Bubble-Head Charm before diving in, and Krum managed to Transfigure his head to that of a shark's head. I noticed Harry shove something into his mouth, and a few seconds later, I could see gills on his neck— he had used Gillyweed. Once all four champions were underwater, the lake remained still, giving mo clue as to what was happening beneath its surface. With a sigh, I pulled out a book, and began to read.

Half an hour later, Fleur Delacour emerged coughing and spluttering, covered with numerous scratches. Someone helped her out of the water, and handed her over to Madam Pomfrey, who led her away. The lake lay still once more. About a half an hour after that, Cedric surfaced with a pretty, Ravenclaw girl, whose name I could not remember.

"That's Cho Chang, a fifth year, who plays Seeker for Ravenclaw," Trish said helpfully as Cedric and Cho Chang were brought to the matron. "She and Diggory went to the Yule Ball together."

Twenty minutes later, Krum appeared out of the water with Hermione. Finally, ten minutes later, Harry rose out of the water with two hostages— Ron and a little girl. All at once, it seemed, everyone in the stands stood on their feet, shouting and screaming. I noticed merpeople rose out of the water with Harry, surrounding him. The little girl appeared to be Fleur's sister, seeing as Fleur was currently struggling to break free of Madam Maxime. The merpeople accompanied Harry into the shallow water. Percy Weasley ran into the water, and grabbed Ron, while Bagman and Dumbledore helped Harry. Fleur had broken free, and hugged her sister. Dumbledore bent down, and conversed with one of the merpeople before turning to the other judges, who gathered in a little huddle. Impatiently, the crowd awaited the judges' decision.

"Ladies and gentlemen, we have reached our decision. Mer-chieftainess Murcus has told us exactly what happened at the bottom of the lake, and we have therefore decided to award marks out of fifty for each of the champions, as follows...

"Miss Fleur Delacour, though she demonstrated excellent use of the Bubble-Head Charm, was attacked by Grindylows as she approached her goal, and failed to retrieve her hostage. We award her twenty-five points," Bagman boomed. The crowd applauded.

"Mr Cedric Diggory, who also used the Bubble-Head Charm, was first to return with his hostage, though he returned one minute outside the time limit of an hour. We therefore award him forty-seven points."

More applause, especially from the Hufflepuffs.

"Mr. Viktor Krum used an incomplete form of Transfiguration, which was nevertheless effective, and was second to return with his hostage. We award him forty-points.

"Mr. Harry Potter used Gillyweed to great effect. He returned last, and well outside the time limit of an hour. However, the Mer-chieftainess informs us that Mr. Potter was first to reach the hostages, and that the delay in his return was due to his determination to return all hostages to safety, not merely his own. Most of the judges feel that this shows moral fibre and merits full marks. However... Mr. Potter's score is forty-five points."

The Gryffindors were beside themselves. We clapped, and cheered as loud as we could. I noticed even Fleur applauding Harry.

"The third and final task will take place at dusk on the twenty-fourth of June," Bagman continued. "The champions will be notified of what is coming, precisely one month beforehand. Thank you all for your support of the champions."

We began to file out of the stands, the other students chatting happily, especially the Hogwarts' students. Harry and Cedric tied for first place. If at least one of them finished the third task first, it will definitely be a Hogwarts victory. Under the beech tree, I stopped to tie my shoe. A few seconds later, I noticed a pair legs standing in front of me.

"Kat, I need to tell you something," Fred said. I said nothing, pretending to ignore him. "George made a mistake. We all do. Do you know how quickly he called off the bet? The next day, immediately after Defence Against the Dark Arts. And, now? You're ignoring him. Over what, Kat? A stupid bet? I thought you were better that." Ouch. I deserved that. I mulled over Fred's words as he began to walk away.

"Fred?" I called. He stopped, but did not turn around. "Tell him to meet me outside the tapestry of Barnabas the Barmy in ten minutes."

Fred continued walking on, without saying whether or not he heard, or whether he understood. I slowly followed behind him, and heading up to the seventh floor, passing the Fat Lady before I reached the tapestry. As I waited, I thought about what I would need. When I heard footsteps, I began to pace; a door appeared just as redheaded figure stopped in front of me. I said nothing, and neither did he as I opened the door, gesturing him inside. He looked at me curiously before heading into the Room. I followed him inside. Inside, I found I had entered a tiny room with a welcoming fireplace, and a sofa in front of the fireplace. On the walls, I saw Gryffindor banners, and photos that, on closer inspection, appeared to be of my mum. We both sat down on the sofa, neither of us speaking. The silence hung in the air, the only sound came from the crackling flames as they burned away the wood.

"This is somewhere I came to be alone," I said, breaking the silence as I tore my gaze from the flames to look at him. "It's called the Room of Requirement. It changes to suit whatever you need, except for food. It's one of the exceptions to Gamp's Law of Elemental Transfiguration." I took a deep breath, before continuing on. "I just wanted to say I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. I should have listened to you. I should have talked to you, instead of pushing you away. I should have—"

"Kat, I'm sorry too. I should've told you earlier. I don't want to keep secrets from you. And I shouldn't've made that bet. If my mum or Ginny ever find out, I'm as good as dead. I called it off as soon as I saw you crying. I decided you needed a friend, who was there for _you_, not to ask you out. You didn't need that. I was going to tell you about it, but I just didn't know _when_. Do you forgive me?" he asked, almost pleadingly, meeting my gaze. I stayed silent as I thought about what he had said.

"Yes, I forgive you," I said. He said nothing, but stood up to look at pictures. I pushed myself off the sofa, and joined him. He pointed at a pretty blonde with blue eyes sitting next to a redhead.

"Isn't that your mum?" he asked.

"Yup," I said, "or Francesca Wilkinson as she was known during her Hogwarts years. I reckon this was taken during her last year there."

"Why do you say that?"

"Well, her friend is wearing a Head Girl badge, and so is that boy, except his is a Head Boy badge," I said, pointing to a laughing, black-haired bespectacled boy.

"Hey, he looks a lot like Harry, doesn't he?" George asked.

"Yeah, except for the eyes," I said slowly. "Harry has her eyes."

"Which means—"

"Mum knew Lily and James Potter! But who are the other three?" I asked, a bit perplexed.

"Well, the sandy-haired one is Remus Lupin because he was our Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher last year," George said. "But I don't know who the other two are."

I began to take the photos down. Without a word, George began to help me. A few minutes later, I held a stack of photos.

"Let's go back to the Tower," I said. We exited, and walked back to the Tower. We met no one in the corridors, not even Mrs. Norris. We stopped in front of the Fat Lady. I held out my hand.

"Friends?" I asked.

"Friends," he agreed, shaking my hand. I gave the Fat Lady the password, and we joined the party.

"George, do you forgive me?" I asked before he went to join his friends. He said, nothing but walked away, leaving me wondering if I had really screwed things up.

* * *

I woke late the next morning, but the first thing I noticed (other than the fact Anya had decided to sleep on my back) a yellow rose lying next me on the pillow, with a note attached. Pushing Anya off me, I rolled over, and sat up. I grabbed my wand, and opened the note. In neatish hand, which I recognised to be George's, I saw three words: I forgive you.

With a smile, I threw on some clean clothes, and changed my hair colour to purple, lengthening it to reach mid-back, so I could braid the rose into my hair. I went down to the common room, joining Fred and George.

"Exploding Snap, Kat?" Fred asked me.

"Sure," I said.

"I see you got my message," George whispered to me as Fred dealt.

"Yes. Thanks for the rose. I love it, it's beautiful," I said.

"Just like you," George said quietly. I blushed.

"I thought we agreed to be friends," I said, determinedly avoiding his gaze.

"We did, but that doesn't mean I can't speak the truth," he countered.

"Oh, stop it," I said, hitting him on the shoulder.

"D'you want to come to Hogsmeade with me?" he asked.

"All right," I agreed. Why not? "I'll meet you outside Honeydukes at noon. I have some shopping to do first."

"Why do you have to go shopping?" he asked, with a hint of a teasing.

"Never you mind," I told him, feeling more like myself than I had since Christmas.

* * *

**Author's Note: A short chapter, but I think it's sweet. Let me know what you think.**


	17. Ch 17: Alive

**Disclaimer: I own nothing. Absolutely nothing.**

* * *

**Chapter Seventeen  
Alive**

"_Maybe we're too young and I don't even know what's real.  
__But I know I've never wanted anything so bad.  
__I've never wanted anyone so bad_."  
Adore— Hayley Williams

I woke early on the day of the Hogsmeade trip feeling very excited. I had trouble deciding on a hair colour. It took me ten minutes before deciding on mahogany with soft curls. Quietly, I headed downstairs, and out of the common room, making my way towards the Owlery with three letters rolled in my hand. After selecting a barn owl and watching him fly away, I went downstairs to eat breakfast in the Great Hall before our Apparition lesson, which would take place earlier due to our Hogsmeade trip.

An hour later, I exited the Hall with the rest of sixth years, and made my way to Hogsmeade. The weather was much warmer than it had been recently, and by the time I had reached Hogsmeade, my cloak was draped over my arm. I visited Honeydukes, Zonko's, and an interesting shop (where I bought Vanessa's birthday present). When I exited Honeydukes, I saw George waiting patiently for me; he eyed the bags I held curiously, but said nothing.

"You're late," he said.

"I'm never late," I responded.

"No?"

"No. I arrive precisely when I mean to," I told him light-heartedly.

"In a good mood?"

I nodded.

"Had any chocolate?" he asked with a smile.

"No," I lied. I had tried a free sample of some new chocolate, which was absolutely delicious. He kept smiling, so I changed the subject. "So, where are we going?"

"Well, I was hoping you'd join me for a drink in the Three Broomsticks?"

"Sure," I said. We walked over to the Three Broomsticks. He held the door open, and rolling my eyes, I headed inside. I found a table, while George went to get the drinks. He joined me a few minutes later.

"So, how's school?" he asked.

"Good," I said, taking a sip of Butterbeer. "I have about four essays due this week."

"I only have two," he said.

"You only have three classes!" I exclaimed.

"So?"

"Never mind," I said. "What do you want to do after Hogwarts?"

"Well, Fred and I want to open a joke shop," he said. "Why are you looking at me like that?"

"Because that's brilliant," I told him.

"Mum doesn't think so, she wants to go in the Ministry, like Dad," he said.

"You two would never fit in the Ministry," I said. "A joke shop is more your thing. You two are good at making people laugh. Follow your dreams, Mum would always tell me."

"What are your dreams?" he asked curiously. "What do you want to do with your life?"

"I honestly have no idea. Up until my sixteenth birthday, my goal was to come to Great Britain, go to Hogwarts, and have friends my own age. Mission accomplished," I said.

"But you must've thought about what you wanted to do after school," he said.

"Nope," I said. "I haven't a clue what I'm going to after next year. Partly why I didn't drop too many subjects this year."

"Well, I guess you technically have one year left to figure it out."

"Yup," I said, draining my Butterbeer. "D'you wanna go for a walk?"

"A walk?" George repeated, finishing his own Butterbeer.

"Yes, a walk," I confirmed. "It's a nice day for a walk. The weather's much warmer. C'mon, we'll take a walk to the Shrieking Shack."

"Maybe I can regale you with the frightening tales of Britain's most frightening home."

"I doubt it, that stuff never scared me," I said, following him out of the pub.

He led the way as we quickly wound through the crowded High Street, and up the slope leading toward the Shrieking Shack. When I reached the top of the slope, I couldn't see George anywhere. Setting my bags down by the fence, I looked around for George.

"George?" I called out. "George, where are you? This isn't funny!"

I spun around, and jumped. A tall, red-haired _idiot_ grinned at me. We stood so close I could just reach up and kiss him. I didn't, no matter how tempting it seemed.

"Don't _do_ that! You nearly gave me a heart attack," I told him sharply.

He chuckled. "Just being near me does that, Wilkinson," he said cheekily.

"Shut up, Weasley," I said, noticing that neither of us had moved.

"You really are beautiful, Kat, you know that?" he asked. I felt my heartbeat quicken; a word used to describe me many times in my life, but it only ever held meaning when he said it.

"I'm not beautiful," I protested. "Pretty, maybe, but definitely not beautiful."

"You are beautiful, why can't you see that?" he asked quietly.

"Because I'm not. So many people have told me I am, and not always… pleasant characters," I explained.

"But you know Imean it, right?" he said.

"I know you do," I told him. "You are the first guy to say it to me, and mean it."

"What are you afraid of?" he inquired.

"How is that relevant to our current discussion?" I asked, puzzled.

"Just answer the question."

"I don't know," I whispered.

"Then why can't we—"

"Because it's an insecurity of mine," I interrupted quietly. "At Midstars once you turned thirteen, you were expected to attend every single ball. And the school held lot of balls. Before the Yule Ball, I had attended twelve. But that's not the point. The point is, I've had many dates. And they were always jerks and idiots. I was nothing more than pretty face. And then I met you. You turned my whole world upside down. You changed what I thought about guys. You don't treat me like another pretty face; you treat me like a real person."

He leaned towards me, and I could've moved away, I could've told him no, but I did neither. He placed his hands on my waist, holding me close, while I rested my hands on his shoulders. And about an inch or so apart, a loud noise made us jump apart. Turning out to be nothing but a small animal, we stayed apart, the moment lost.

"What time is it?" he asked.

"Um, half past three," I replied.

"We should head back up to the school," he said.

"Yup," I agreed quickly. I went to the fence to grab my bags, and followed George down the slope. He always stayed ahead of me as we walked through Hogsmeade. When we reached the school gates, I managed to catch up with him. He glanced at me, but didn't say anything. I followed him until we reached the Gryffindor table. He joined Fred and Lee, while I sat down with Trisha and Jody. I noticed Trish glanced at George before returning her gaze to me.

"Everything okay, Kat?" she asked.

I glanced at George before answering. "Yeah, everything's fine."

* * *

It happened during our tenth Apparition lesson.

We had about five minutes left, when I Apparated into my hoop. Quickly, I scanned the faces of the amazed students, and found only three smiling at my accomplishment— Fred, George, and Trish. After a quick decision, I Apparated into George's hoop. In a few short seconds, George stood next to me. "I told you you're brilliant," he said, before kissing me, not caring that the entire sixth year stood in the Hall, not to mention the four Heads of House, plus a Ministry wizard. But I suppose I can't say anything, considering I kissed him back. When his hands found my waist, my arms wound around his neck. We broke apart when McGonagall cleared her throat. I had the decency to blush, and look embarrassed, while George just grinned as he took my hand in his.

"Feeling pretty confident, aren't we?" I asked him teasingly. He winked at me before turning back to Twycross, but only pretending to pay attention.

"Did you have to kiss me, in front of everyone?"

"Everyone would've been standing on the Gryffindor table during breakfast," he said.

"I guess," I said as we left the Hall, still hand in hand. Fred and Lee materialised on either side of us.

"So, I think we know how to get George to Apparate," Fred said. "Have Kat at his destination."

"Come on, Kat," George said, pulling me up the marble staircase. "Let's go somewhere more private."

Many shortcuts later, we stood in the Room of Requirement, the way it had been when I had apologised. But we didn't sit down. George backed me against a wall, and proceeded to kiss me.

~*~

Several hours later, we returned to the common room. Fred raised his eyebrows, but said nothing. We joined Fred and Lee in front of the fireplace, and their discussion about Apparition.

"You three had better learn how to Apparate by the twenty-first," I said. "You can take the test, I can't."

"I can Apparate!" George protested.

I ignored this comment. "Two more lessons left," I said.

"Are you still gonna go to the lessons, Kat?" Lee asked.

"Yeah, I paid twelve Galleons for these lessons, and it's good practise," I answered. "I want to take the test on my birthday."

The subject changed easily from Apparition to abusing Twycross to whatever else. I noticed that mine and George's relationship never came up once, but I had a feeling once we went to bed, the girls'd interrogate me, while Fred would question his brother. But I didn't care. I felt happy, content, and… _complete_. Just as I had at the Yule Ball, I realised it felt so _right_ to be his arms. How _amazing _it felt to have him kiss me, or vice versa. I had become so lost in my own little world, I only snapped out of it when someone threw a piece of parchment at my head. None of the boys had noticed; they had become engrossed in planning a new prank. I looked down at the crumpled parchment in my lap. I unfolded it, and discovered writing I recognised to be Trisha's on it.

_Come up to bed, we have to talk. Preferably before one Victoria Adams heads up. Now._

Sighing, I chucked the parchment in the fire. I watched the parchment burn away before standing up. George looked at me quizzically.

"I'm going to bed. Hope you had a good birthday. I'll see you in the morning," I said, kissing him goodnight. "G'night, guys."

"'Night, Kat," all three chorused. I smiled as I walked up to my dormitory. Only Trish sat on her bed, already in her pyjamas. She said nothing, as I got ready for bed, taking as much time as possible. When I sat down on my bed, she spoke.

"So, that was unexpected," she said smiling.

"You're telling me," I said.

"Yeah, but you really didn't care, did you? You kissed him back," Trish said, still smiling. "Merlin, I thought the two of you would've gotten together after the Yule Ball. You two were in your own little world."

"It wasn't that obvious, was it?" I asked.

"Yes," Trish replied with a laugh. "Why do you think Tori hates you so much?"

"I just thought she didn't like me," I said, shrugging.

"She's been trying to get George's attention since we were fourteen. And you came here, and it's like you're the only girl he sees. You're smart and beautiful, and you're just yourself. You don't care what people think of you. The point is, you've succeeded where Tori hasn't. Watch out for her. She doesn't accept defeat easily. Trust me. I still don't think she's quite gotten over Angelina and Alicia making the Quidditch team."

"Don't worry, Trish," I said. "I know how to do deal with girls like Tori Adams."

She nodded. "So, what did happen with you and George in Hogsmeade?"

I sighed. "Well, I met George outside Honeydukes a few minutes late, and we headed to the Three Broomsticks for a drink, and…"

* * *

I lay on the sofa in the Room of Requirement. I had just wished the twins and Lee good luck on their Apparition test. My mind wandered as I thought about the last three weeks. Had it really only been three weeks? It had felt as if more time had passed. I felt like I'd been living someone else's life, or at the very least, watching it. Sometimes I can't help but wonder what would've happened if I hadn't over heard Fred and George on Boxing Day. If I had known I'd be feeling like this, I'd've apologised immediately, or just kissed him right there. Who knows? And sometimes I can't help but wonder what might've happened if I had came to Hogwarts at age eleven. Would George and I have gotten together earlier? Again, who knows?

George and I didn't spend every free minute in each other's company. I still had more classes than the twins, so I spent most of my free time in the library. Though we did spend our evenings together for the most part. Sometimes just talking about whatever was on our minds, or sometimes snogging. My watch started beeping as I relived last Saturday when George had surprised me with an impromptu trip to Hogsmeade. Realising I had only had five minutes to get to class; I sprang to my feet, and dashed out of the room.

I sat in Potions practically all by myself. Only two other students remained— Adrian Pucey of Slytherin and Amaryllis Sparrow of Ravenclaw. Amaryllis sat next to me. Around average height, she had long, ash-blond hair, and green eyes.

"Despite being in so many classes together, I don't think we've been properly introduced," she said. "I'm Amaryllis Sparrow."

"Katharina Wilkinson," I said, smiling. "Better known as Kat. Amaryllis is a pretty name."

"Thanks, so's Katharina," she replied with a smile. I couldn't respond, however, as Snape had begun to speak.

"It seems hardly prudent to have you concoct a potion that will appear on your exams and NEWTs when there is only three of you present. However, I want each of you to make a potion of your choosing. You may begin."

I flipped my book open to the recipe for a Babbling Beverage, while Amaryllis opened hers to the Draught of Living Death.

"I didn't get it quite right during our first lesson," she said with a shaky laugh. "I want to try it again."

I nodded, pulling out the ingredients I would need out of my potion-making kit. We set to our tasks quietly with me occasionally offering Amaryllis tips. About halfway through the lesson, Snape came over to our table. Snape inspected both our potions before speaking.

"Better, Miss Sparrow, but certainly not perfect," Snape said quietly. "A Babbling Beverage, I presume, Miss Wilkinson?"

"Yes, Professor," I answered curtly.

"Nearly perfect," Snape said. "I do not understand why a girl with your academic standards is with one of the school's top troublemaker."

I didn't see what business it was of Snape's, but Snape had been saying snide remarks since my first Potions class after that particular Apparition lesson. Like usual, I said nothing in return— detention with Snape usually guarantees more detentions or reduction in house points.

"But I suppose it runs in your blood, your father was quite a troublemaker," he said before walking over to Pucey.

"Snape doesn't like me much either," Amaryllis said.

"Does Snape like anyone?" I whispered.

"Yes, well, I'm Muggle-born," she replied.

"Ah," I said.

We remained silent for the remainder of the class. Snape examined our work. He said nothing about our potions, but took a vial of each. Amaryllis and I quickly packed up our things, exiting the class before Snape could say anything else. We headed out to the grounds for break. We spent the entire fifteen minutes bad-mouthing Snape, continuing even as we headed to Charms. Since more people took Charms, six students remained. Flitwick announced we could practice, or play games. We opted for playing games. Amaryllis and I chatted as we played hangman. When the bell rang, we walked to the Great Hall together.

"Well, see you later, Kat," Amaryllis said before joining her fellow Ravenclaws.

"Yeah, see you," I called after her as I walked over to the Gryffindor table. I spotted Fred, George, and Lee sitting about halfway up the table. "So, how did you do?"

"We passed," George replied. "All of us."

"That's great! Congratulations!" I exclaimed. "When did you get back?"

"About halfway through Charms," George said. "How was the rest of your day?"

"Oh, the usual," I said casually, piling my plate with food. "Snape's still a git, and Flitwick let us play games because there was only six of us."

"What did Snape say this time?"

"Nothing, really. He mentioned my father, but that was it," I said. "I ignored him."

"What did you do in Potions?" Fred asked.

"Snape let us make whatever we wanted. I made a Babbling Beverage, and I helped Amaryllis Sparrow with her Draught of Living Death," I answered. "As far as class with Snape goes, it wasn't too bad."

"You don't have detention again?" George asked.

"Nope, I kept my mouth shut. I just don't see what business it is of his."

"He's just trying to provoke you so he can take points away from Gryffindor like usual," George said reasonably.

"I never thought about that," I said. "Hmm, that's actually… sensible."

"Why do you sound amazed?" George demanded. "I've said sensible things before!"

"I know, but that was about more… serious stuff," I said.

"What 'serious stuff'?" Fred asked immediately.

"None of your business," I replied. "That's between George and me."

* * *

**Author's Note: Okay, I planned to have this up almost a month ago, but I had such a hard time writing it. It wasn't exactly writer's block, but at the same time, it was, if that makes any sense at all. I don't really like it, but honestly? It's the best I could come up with. I suggest looking up the lyrics for the song above, because it fits for Kat perfectly. With Kat, I have no idea what I'm going to do with her outside of Hogwarts. I'm literally stumped. Any ideas?**


	18. Ch 18: I Found Out It Won't Be the Same

**Disclaimer: If I indeed owned Harry Potter, I'd've been to the Wizarding World of Harry Potter and not scheming with my friend on how we're going to get there.**

**A/N: Sorry if anything is spelt wrong. I don't have my laptop, which means I can't use my custom dictionary, which means I ignore whenever it tells me something HP-related is spelt wrong.**

* * *

**Chapter Eighteen  
**"**I Found Out It Won't Be the Same"**

"_I'll wave goodbye (You shine bright)_  
_Watching you shine bright (You shine bright)_  
_I'll wave goodbye tonight (You shine bright)_"  
Brighter— Paramore

The majority of school was glad May is almost over. I was glad for three reasons; one month of school left, one month until the final task, and a month and a bit until my seventeenth birthday. Actually, it's exactly one month until the third and final task. Today was a nice day. Many students were studying for their exams. Classes were over for the day, and I was heading to the Great Hall for dinner. In the corridor, I saw George, and I saw me heading towards him. Wait a minute... how in the hell am I in two places at once? The other me had baby blue hair, even though I had long since changed it to a deep purple. That wasn't the most shocking thing, though. Other me strode purposefully to George, and kissed him full on the mouth. The entire crowd came to a standstill. Angrily, I pushed through the shocked crowd, and came to the edge. George had a dazed look, until he saw me. His dazed look immediately switched to shocked and apologetic. Quietly, I shook my head, and pushed back through the crowd. Apologising, Laurie stopped me, and told me Tori had taken some Polyjuice Potion. I told her it was okay, and it wasn't her fault, before continuing my way outside. I headed over to a secluded spot I had discovered back in September. I sat on the ground, and, looking out at the lake, tried not to cry.

"I thought you'd be here," he said about twenty minutes later. I glanced behind me quickly, and saw him watching me apprehensively.

"Well, this spot isn't as secluded as I thought," I said sullenly.

"Kat, are you cross with me?" he asked.

Sighing, I answered him. "No. How can I be? You didn't know."

"Mind if I sit down, then?"

"Go ahead," I said, patting the ground next to me. He sat. I turned to look at him. "Well?"

"I just wanted to say that I meant everything I said during the last dance. Everything."

"I know," I said. "I didn't mean anything I said that day; I just didn't want to believe I was being used... I tried so hard during January and most of February trying to hate you. And now, this seems like a good time to tell you. I don't fancy you anymore."

"You don't fancy..." he trailed off, staring at me. "So, you want to break up?"

"No!" I said immediately, horrified at the thought. "Just shut up and listen, will you?" I took a deep breath before plunging on. "I didn't want to love you. I didn't want to allow myself to love you. I was so abused. I thought you deserved someone better than me. I tried to ignore you, but you always found me, and you were so bloody persistent. When I found out about that idiotic bet, I had never felt so angry or hurt in my life. The fact that _you_ made the bet hurt me more than Karl Schmidt ever could. Then Fred had to go and tell me how much I was hurting you. I knew I had to apologise. And then you asked for _my_ forgiveness. We were back where we started. After you gave me the rose and forgave me, I realised that I didn't fancy you anymore." I stopped and looked into his blue eyes. "I've told you things I've never told another human being. I trust you completely. You are the only person I have been myself around in four years. It only took you two months to coax me out of the abyss I had fallen into four years ago." I paused again, but this time to kiss him softly. "So, no, I don't fancy you. I fucking love you, you git."

He stared at me for a few seconds, and then I felt his lips on mine, kissing me again and again. Gently, he pushed me towards the ground, his hands clasped around my wrists, pinning my arms to the ground. A few minutes later, however, we had switched places. George took my hair out its braid, and ran his fingers through it. I gave him one last kiss, before I laid down, resting my head on his chest. He wrapped an arm around me, and kissed the top of my head. Neither of us spoke, content to just lie in each other arms. I found the sound of his heartbeat soothing. And we stayed like that for a long time, well, until my stomach rumbled. George chuckled. Reluctantly, I sat up, as did George.

"I don't want to go back into the castle yet," I said. He said nothing, but picked up a bag, and conjured a blanket. He began to pull food out of the bag. I sat on the blanket, and he handed me a Butterbeer along with a plate of food. I took it, and dug in. We said nothing for a few moments.

"I probably should've said that on your birthday," I said, breaking the silence.

"It's okay. No rush," he says. "It's one of things you have to be absolutely sure of before telling another person."

"Okay," I said, unsure of what else to say. George moved behind me and pulled me onto his lap. I leaned back, content with my position. Minutes later, I could hear people down at the pitch, but we didn't move. I laid my head against his shoulder. George's grip tightened slightly and I smiled, feeling safe and secure.

We stayed like for a long time, past dusk. But I tensed as I saw Karkaroff leave the Durmstrang ship with Hagrid.

"Something's happened," I whispered, getting up.

"Looks like it," George agreed as he packed everything up.

"I wonder what," I commented, taking his hand.

"Whatever it is, if it's important enough, Dumbledore'll tell us. Probably just something to do with the final task," George said reassuringly as we headed up to the castle. At the front, entrance we were stopped by Dumbledore.

"Mr. Weasley, Miss Wilkinson, what are you doing out here?" he asked.

"Just taking a walk around the grounds, Professor," George replied. "We're heading up to the common room."

"Very good, very good. May I suggest no wandering the corridors tonight," Dumbledore said, watching us. I thought it was a strange request.

"We won't leave the common room tonight, sir," I assured him. "'Night, Professor."

"Good night, Miss Wilkinson, Mr. Weasley," Dumbledore said.

"'Night, sir."

* * *

A month later, and exams had begun. George and I hardly spent time together because I was absorbed in my studying. George had tried assuring me I would do just fine without it, but after I had snapped at him for that, he learned it best to stay away and leave me in peace. On the day of the final task, I only had my Charms and Potions exam left. With Flitwick, I doubted Charms would be difficult, Potions on the other hand… Fred, George, Lee and I walked into the classroom feeling pretty confident. I was right; the exam was a piece of cake.

We entered the Great Hall, and I saw Mrs. Weasley sitting at the Gryffindor table with Harry, Ron, and a red-haired man with his hair tied back in a ponytail, and a fang earring.

"Is that Bill?" I asked the twins.

"Yup," Fred said. "I wonder what Mum is doing here."

"Probably come to watch Harry in the final task," I said as we walked over to where they sat. "I saw Cedric and Fleur walking around with their parents earlier."

"Hullo, Kat," Mrs. Weasley said as I slid in a seat next to George. "Lovely to see you again."

"Hi, Mrs. Weasley," I said.

"How did your exams go?" she asked.

"Good," I said. "One more this afternoon, then I'm finished."

"How do you know Mum?" George asked as Mrs. Weasley turned her attention to Ginny, who had just sat down.

"I met her in Diagon Alley, when I was buying my uniform," I whispered. "You can thank her for my dress robes."

"Really?" he asked, surprised.

I nodded. "Have you told her about us?" I asked curiously.

"Not yet," he said, shaking his head. "Yes, I know it's been two months. And a week until your birthday, right?"

I nodded. I felt like a bit of an outsider as everyone began to talk. The twins and Ginny tried to include me the best they could, but it still didn't help. I noticed how Harry seemed to fit right in. Yet, I still had a good time. About halfway through, Hermione joined us.

"Hello, Hermione," Mrs. Weasley said rather coldly.

"Hello," Hermione greeted, her smile faltering.

Harry looked between them before saying, "Mrs. Weasley, you didn't believe that rubbish Rita Skeeter wrote in _Witch Weekly_, did you? Because Hermione's not my girlfriend."

"Oh! No— of course I didn't!"

About twenty minutes after that, I stood up. The twins looked at me. I refrained from rolling my eyes at them.

"I have a Potions exam, remember?" I asked. Despite my potion-making skills, I'd been dreading this exam.

"Good luck," they chorused.

"I'll need more than luck with Snape," I remarked, turning to leave. "See you later."

Halfway to the door, George had caught up with me. He grabbed my wrist; I stopped, looking at him expectantly.

"You forgot something," he told me. I noticed Mrs. Weasley and Bill watching us. Oh, boy.

"What?" I asked.

"This," he said before kissing me quickly. "You're blushing."

"Well, your mother is watching," I hissed, before shaking my head. "You and your brother are the most unusual guys I've ever met. But, I've got to go."

I ran out of the Hall and down to the dungeons for my final exam. The hour and a half that followed was the longest in my life. Snape tried to find a fault with my potion, but couldn't. Amaryllis ignored Snape's taunts as she concentrated on hers. Only the Slytherins didn't feel the immense pressure the rest of us did as they worked away. But soon it was over. I handed in my vial, quickly packed my things and left the classroom before Snape could say anything. I met up with the guys and headed to the Great Hall for dinner. We sat with Mrs. Weasley again. The Minister of Magic sat next to Madame Maxime. I guess Percy wouldn't be allowed to judge with Crouch's disappearance. The feast had more courses than usual and soon dusk fell. Dumbledore rose to his feet, and silence fell.

"Ladies and gentlemen, in five minutes' time, I will be asking you to make your way down to the Quidditch pitch for the third and last task of the Triwizard Tournament. Will the champions please follow Mr. Bagman down to the stadium now."

Harry got up. The Gryffindors applauded him; the Weasleys, Hermione, and I wished him luck, and left the Great Hall with Cedric, Fleur and Krum. Once the applause died down, you could see the anticipation. This is it; the deciding factor. Any school could win. Although Hogwarts has a better chance with two champions. Dumbledore rose to his feet once again.

"Ladies and gentlemen, may I ask you to make your way to the Quidditch pitch? The third task is about to begin."

The usual noise ensued. The Weasleys, Hermione and I found decent seats. The maze filled the entire pitch with twenty-foot hedges. The first stars had begun to appear. Anya wandered into the stadium, jumped onto my lap and curled up on my lap. I absentmindedly scratched her ear. Hagrid and Professors Moody, McGonagall and Flitwick walked into the stadium. The teachers had large, red luminous stars on their hats while Hagrid's star was on the back of his coat.

"Ladies and gentlemen, the third and final task of the Triwizard Tournament is about to begin! Let me remind you how the points currently stand! Tied in first place, on eighty-five points each— Mr. Cedric Diggory and Mr. Harry Potter, both of Hogwarts School! In second place, on eighty points— Mr. Viktor Krum, of Durmstrang Institute! And in third place— Miss Fleur Delacour, of Beauxbatons Academy!"

Bagman gave a short blast on his whistle and Harry and Cedric entered the maze. Five minutes later, another blast of the whistle and Krum entered the maze. A third blast of the whistle and Fleur entered the maze.

"As terrifying as the first task was, I like it best. There was something to watch," I commented.

"What do you mean?" George asked.

"Well, with the second task, they were underwater. We had no clue what was going on, which was infinitely more terrifying and now, they're in a maze, filled with dangerous creatures. We can't see what's happening. It's scary," I explained.

"That's true," George said, petting Anya. She walked over to his lap, and curled up.

"Traitor," I muttered. Anya opened her eyes, gave me a look, and closed them again. George chuckled as he resumed petting her.

"She just wants attention, Kat," he said.

"I know. She's still a traitor, though," I said.

"So, when did this happen?" Mrs. Weasley asked, looking at George and I happily. I felt my cheeks flush and George blushed.

"D'you want me to tell? George followed Kat around like a lost puppy and Kat repeatedly pushed him away. In Defence Against the Dark Arts, he sno— OW! What'd you go and do that for?"

"Shut up," I hissed.

"You don't want Mum to know?" Fred asked innocently.

"Not if you're telling it," I replied.

"Why not?" I raised my hand and wand. "All right, all right, I'll be quiet."

"Good."

"Where were you when I needed you these last seventeen years, dear?" Mrs. Weasley asked amusedly.

"I try. Anyway, George and I met on the train. I had dropped a book and George returned it to me. But Fred is right; George didn't give up on me. He asked me to the Yule Ball and that was it," I tell Mrs. Weasley, omitting all the, um, bad things that had occurred.

"Well, I'm happy for both of you," Mrs. Weasley said. I noticed her glance worriedly at the maze.

"He'll be okay, Mrs. Weasley. He's doing surprisingly well despite that he's the underdog," I said reassuringly.

"Oh, I know, dear, but as a mother I tend to worry. You'll understand when you have children."

The twilight sky faded into night. The stars sprinkled the sky and the air cooled. Hagrid and McGonagall already had rescued Fleur and Krum, which left Harry and Cedric. A Hogwarts victory for sure; it was just a matter of whether it would be for Hufflepuff or Gryffindor. Although Cedric is a friend, I do want Harry to win. I am a Gryffindor after all. Time passed slowly, everyone now anticipating the reappearance of either Hogwarts champion. The dark maze remained still and silent. Nothing moved and no sound emitted from the labyrinth.

Harry slammed face first into the damp grass., clutching what appeared to be the Triwizard Cup and Cedric. The whole stadium cried out together. Dumbledore descended upon Harry immediately with Fudge joining a few minutes later. The Weasleys, Hermmione and I jumped to our feet. Screams began in the closest rows, slowing rising into hysterics..

"He's dead!"

"He's _dead_!"

"Cedric Diggory! Dead!"

My mind stopped working. It completely blanked. There was no warning. This tournament was supposed to be safe. No deaths this time round. Although I was absolutely relieved Harry hadn't died, I still couldn't believe it. Cedric's… dead. My legs shook badly as reality set in. George caught me when my legs gave out.

* * *

**Author's Note: I'm alive and back! Woo! /t has almost been a year, my lovely readers. Thank you to everyone who patiently waited for me. I hope it was worth it. I just wasn't with Kat and this stage in her life. I had to grow up with her and I did. First love, betrayal, etc. I'm doing better now. I learned two things this summer: concerts are awesome and being by the stage is amazing. I saw my first Paramore show on August 8th**** at Darien Lake and they are unbelievably amazing! I'll shut up now. Thanks for sticking with Kat! Oh, the chapter title comes from Avril Lavigne's song **_**Slipped Away**_**. Quick question, who saw the Exhibition already?**


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